The Ruins of Our Lives
by Randy Taylor
Summary: This story takes place in October of 1996. Tim is in an accident at Tool Time, and then a whole bunch of bad things happen. Different Chapter 3 up. It has more thoughts to it.
1. Chapter 1: Don't Thank God Quite Yet

Untitled Prologue

The Ruins of Our Lives Prologue

Summary: This story takes place in October of 1996. Tim is in an accident at Tool Time (which he amazingly enough didn't cause), and a whole bunch of other bad things happen.

Jill's POV

Thank God it's Friday. I am sick of school, and of my professors.

As I walk into the house I barely have my coat off when the phone begins ringing.

I run over to answer it, not having a clue who it could be. I mean, who would call at 2:15 on a Friday afternoon?

'Hello' I answer.

'Oh Jill, thank God, I was worried you wouldn't be home. Tim and Al were in an accident on today's show. The roof collapsed, and everyone was hurt' Heidi said through tears.

'Tim is at the hospital, and Al…Al wasn't so lucky. He was electrocuted when the lights fell. No one knows yet what caused the roof to collapse' said Heidi, again through tears.

'Okay, I'll pick up the boys and be right there' I said, starting to panic.

Sure Tim has been hurt on Tool Time before, but never anything this serious I thought as I grabbed my jacket and was off again.

Once I got in the car, I decided to call the school and tell them to have the boys ready to go when I got there.

'Hello, Lakeside High front office, how may I help you?' answered a cheery voice that I could tell was fake.

'Hi, this is Jill Taylor. I will be picking up my sons Brad and Randy Taylor in a few minutes, and I need them outside waiting for me' I said, letting the military blood in me take over.

'Sure thing Mrs. Taylor' the secretary says in the same cheery voice.

Next thing I do is call Mark's school.

'Hello, Detroit Middle School, how may I help you?' asks another cheery voiced secretary.

'This is Jill Taylor. I will be picking up my son Mark Taylor in a few minutes, and I need him to be outside waiting for me' I say in the same commanding voice I used on the woman at the high school.

'May I ask what for?' the secretary questions, quite rudely.

'You certainly may not. Just have him waiting for me outside when I get there' I say.

The nerve of some people. It is none of that secretary's business why I'm picking up my child.

As I pull up to the high school, I can see Randy waiting outside, then I see Brad come running out as well.

'Buckle up guys' I say as they hop in.

'We're going to stop by and pick up Mark, then we have to go to the hospital' I said, without realizing that the boys had no idea what had happened yet.

'What happened Mom? Is someone sick?' Randy inquired.

'No, apparently today the roof collapsed at Tool Time, and your dad is at the hospital, in surgery'. I replied.

'Well, here's Mark's school, but I don't see him anywhere' I comment.

'You boys stay here, I'm going to go inside and see what's going on. I'll be right back' I say, getting out of the car.

As I walk inside, I don't see Mark anywhere.

I go to the main office, and ask if Mark has been by. The answer is no.

So I ask them to call him down here. The secretary does so.

In the meantime, I question the secretary as to why he wasn't down here waiting, like I requested.

'We need at least 15 minutes notice' the woman responds.

If I didn't have to get to the hospital, I'd stay here and give the principal a piece of my mind about how things operate at this school. But, that'll be for another day.

After about 5 minutes, I see Mark come walking down the hall.

'Hurry up Mark!' I say.

Once we get outside, he asks what's going on.

'Your dad was in an accident on Tool Time. The roof collapsed, and right now your father is in surgery. Heidi didn't say for what though' I reply.

Mark gets in the backseat next to Brad, and I speed off, going about 15 mph above the speed limit, but not giving a damn about it.

In a record time of 10 minutes, we arrive at the hospital.

We run in, and I ask the receptionist where to go.

She seemed a little ticked off that I had interrupted an important phone conversation about shoe shopping, but gave me directions anyways. As I walked away, I gave her some directions as to where she can go, which were met with smiles from the boys, and a scowl from the woman.

The waiting room for surgery patients is on the 5th floor. We took the stairs so we could get there faster.

When we got up there, I told the boys to just sit down, and I walked over to the receptionist there. Luckily, she wasn't on the phone.

'Hi, I'm Jill Taylor, my husband Tim is in surgery. Do I need to fill any forms out?' I ask, sounding like Speedy Gonzalez on a sugar rush.

'Yes, you need to fill out this information for insurance. I know you're worried Mrs. Taylor, but it will be all right. My husband had to have surgery about 4 years ago. It took the team of surgeons several hours to operate on him. Sixteen if I recall correctly. Of course that included the autopsy' says the receptionist.

'Thanks for the emotional support' I mumble.

Just as I sit down to start filling out the medical world's version of the SAT's, I see Heidi come walking into the waiting room.

'Oh Jill, I'm so sorry. I hope he gets better' she says to me.

'Yeah, me too' is all I can manage to mumble.

'Is there anything I can do? Maybe I could take the boys home, or get you something to drink?' she asks politely.

'No, I'm fine. The boy's won't want to go home anyways, they'll want to be here' I said.

'Okay, just let me know if you need anything' she says.

I return to the medical forms I have to fill out. The last time I worked on anything this thick was when I was in college the first time, before I dropped out.

And how does some of this information apply to my husband having a roof collapse on him? I mean, does his mother's maiden name determine the level of care he receives? Does the future of medical science rest on Tim the Toolman Taylor's fathers DOB? I don't even know half of the information.

But I plug along anyway, filling out what I know.

Just as I turn to the last page of the documents, the receptionist comes over to talk to me.

'Mrs. Taylor, the doctor will speak with you now' she says.

'Okay. Here's the information, I've filled out what I know' I say, handing her the clipboard that contains at least 10 square feet of rain forest wood.

I see the doctor come out. He introduces himself as Dr. Ravi Johnjockamo. (How do these people even make it out of the first grade with names like that?).

'Mrs. Taylor, I have some bad news, as well as some good news' Dr. Johnjockamo says.

A/N: Figured I'd leave everyone with a bit of a cliffhanger. Will Tim survive or not? You'll just have to keep reading to find out. And as always, please R&R.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor.


	2. Chapter 2: The Alive and the Brain Dead

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 1

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 2

Jill's POV

'Mrs. Taylor, the good news is your husband is alive. The bad news is, he is brain dead, and is currently on life support' says Dr. Johnjockamo.

'Oh my God' I say.

'So, what do we do now?' I ask the doctor.

'Well, you and your husband's family members need to talk it out, then have the power of attorney your husband appointed sign some documents, depending on what decision the family makes' Dr. Johnjockamo states morbidly.

'Okay. Umm… well, umm… once we reach our decision, how do we contact you?' I ask, trying to remember how to even talk.

'Just give this number a call' he says, handing me a card

'One of the receptionists will take the message, and contact me when I get back. If I'm here and available, then I'll come to the phone' Dr. Johnjockamo explains.

'Okay, I'll be sure to do that' I say, on the verge of tears.

Well, who do I call? Tim's mom, obviously, his brothers, I have to consult with the boys, they need to at least be able to voice their opinions.

Okay, just calm down, and think rationally.

I'll call his mom first, then I'll call each of his brothers.

But first, I have to tell the boys. Oh God, how do I tell them?

I guess I'll just be straightforward with them. I mean, I don't guess there's any beating around the bush on this topic.

'Hey, Randy, where's Brad and Mark at?' I ask.

'They're trying to steal a Snickers bar from the vending machine' Randy says in his voice he always uses when he jokes around.

'Well, go get them' I order.

Now I see Heidi walking over to me.

'How is he Jill?' she asks.

'He…he…he's brain dead' I say, sobbing.

'Oh my God, Jill, I'm so sorry' she says for the second time today.

'Oh, good, boys. I need to talk to you about your dad' I say.

I can tell Randy has already figured out something's up, Mark looks so innocently clueless, and Brad just looks clueless.

'Your father is alive, but he is brain dead' I say.

Randy's POV

I am completely shocked when I hear that he's brain dead.

I fight the urge to say "well duh, I always knew that", seeing as how Mark would probably strangle me.

It's just unbelievable that anything this bad could happen. I mean, he's been through roofs, explosions, and crashes, but never anything this serious.

I guess we're just lucky that this never happened before now.

But what's up with the roof collapsing? I mean, the set Tool Time is on is only about 10 years old, and just had an inspection this June.

Flukes happen, but still.

Before I found out the news, I know how mom and dad and Brad and Mark felt last spring when there was a possibility that I had cancer. You just wish that you could have that person's injury or illness for them, even though it isn't possible.

It doesn't bother me as much when I get hurt or sick, because then at least it isn't someone else physically suffering. The only thing that bothers me then is the fact that everyone else worries about me. I just hate to know that I'm causing other people grief or problems.

This just all seems so impossible. I can't even begin to imagine life without having my dad.

I mean, sure, he got on my nerves a lot with some of the things he did. But I'm still not going to be dancing on his grave.

Mark's POV

How can this even happen? Dad can't be dead yet.

Sure he's only brain dead, but he'll still never be able to be Tim 'the Toolman' Taylor again. He'll never get to work on the hotrod, or take me to the air show, or just sit in the living room and read the paper, or go out and talk to Wilson, or go out for pizza and come back with Polish food from Stan's, or do anything that he ever did.

It just doesn't seem fair. He's survived major explosions, he's gone through two or three roofs, and he's set fire to himself three times in the past month, then something he didn't even cause, some slight structural screw up, gets him?

Ugh. Just pinch me. Tell me it's all a bad dream. I just want to wake up now, and just be able to go down the hall and see dad lying in bed, and hear him snoring.

But I know that that'll never happen again, at least not in this lifetime.

Brad's POV

This is a real eye opener.

To think my dad can survive explosions and fires and anything else he may have ever screwed up, and then some stupid roof collapsing kills him.

I can tell Randy's keeping his mouth shut on purpose, because he knows that if he starts talking, a joke will slip out, and that's the last thing anyone needs or wants to hear. He knows Mark especially would cream him for a joke now.

I understand that Randy's way of coping with stress or problems or just about anything else in life, but it's as annoying as hell to the rest of us who have some actual emotions.

No, no, that didn't sound right, it sounds like I'm saying my brother is an emotionless jerk, which he isn't. Except for about 5 percent of the time, then he's obnoxious to be around.

No, if that's his way of handling stress, and his way of dealing with the loss of a loved one, then so be it. Who am I to criticize?

A/N: I hope this chapter was good; I had a real hard time writing it from about the fourth paragraph on.

I'm not really sure what should be next in the story, so if you have ideas, please submit them. For the love of God, submit them to me! Just send me a PM containing the ideas.

So, anyways, please R&R if you want more of this story.

-Your truly, Randy Taylor


	3. Chapter 3: Pull the Damn Cord

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 3

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 3

Jill's POV

'You're sure this is what you want to do Mrs. Taylor?' asks Dr. Johnjockamo.

'Yes. We don't feel that Tim would want to live hooked up to machines' I say.

'And the entire family is okay with this decision?' asks Dr. Johnjockamo.

'Yes. Could you just pull the damn cord now?' I request.

This is hard to do.

The boys are here, as well as Lucille, but I feel all alone.

I'm sure this is what Tim would want. Although he might have requested some Polish food pumped into his feeding tube first.

The doctor pulled the cord, and within a matter of seconds, the long, high pitched beep of the heart monitor could be heard.

It seems like Lucille and I burst into tears at the same time. Mark was crying a little bit, and Brad and Randy were trying to be strong and not cry.

Mark's POV

It's extremely hard to watch my dad laying there, not breathing, or moving.

I wonder how long they'll let the machine keep beeping; it's beginning to hurt my ears.

I told myself I wasn't going to cry when this happened, but I can feel the tears welling up inside of me. Even now, I'm telling myself not to cry, but I can't control it.

It's like a dam bursting and letting every last tear out of my body.

Mom and grandma are both crying now too. Brad and Randy aren't, but I'm sure they'll have a private cry later on.

It's beyond me how those two can just stand there so emotionless, just like statues or something.

Brad's POV

As soon as Dr. Johnjockamo pulls the cord, I can feel a lump forming in my throat, and a knot forming in my stomach.

I've convinced myself I won't cry, no matter what. Someone needs to be strong. I knew grandma and mom would cry, and I was almost positive Mark would cry as well. Randy I figured might get a little teary eyed over this, but he has yet to shed a tear. I guess he thinks he needs to be strong too.

Well he doesn't. I can be strong enough by myself to get the Taylors through this. I don't need his help, after all, I'm the oldest. I'm supposed to be the strongest of the group.

My philosophy for life is that there's no use in getting teary eyed over death or sickness or other things like that. It's just plain stupid, I mean, it doesn't make the sick person better, or bring the deceased person back to life.

Randy's POV

I have to admit, I'm not 100 sure that "pulling the cord" for lack of a better term, is the best thing to do in this situation, but everyone else does, and I don't want to cause any more turmoil in the family than what there already is, so I pretend that I'm fine with the situation.

As the doctor pulls the cord, I can literally feel my stomach lurch.

Then the long, morbid, shrill beep of the heart monitor starts. I never could stand the sound of those things. It always drives me crazy to hear them on ER.

I can tell Brad's trying to be strong and not cry. Mark is shedding a few tears, mom and grandma are both bawling.

It's not that I'm trying to be macho and not cry, like Brad, it's just that I feel emotionally numb. I don't typically cry when a loved one dies, it's just not my way of coping with the loss.

I mean, when grandpa died a few months ago, I don't remember crying even once. I can remember being extremely sad, and feeling even a little depressed, but never crying.

I guess tears just aren't my style. Which is actually a contradiction. Sometimes I'll cry over something stupid like remembering a dead pet or something. I don't know why I do that. I feel so stupid and childish when I do that.

A/N: This next section takes place the day of Tim's funeral. It'll have the POV of the following people:

Lucille Taylor

Jill Taylor

Randy Taylor

Brad Taylor

Mark Taylor

Wilson W. Wilson (who is officiating)

I'm not doing Tim's brothers' points of view because I think I'll be struggling the way it is to come up with thoughts by the time I get finished with everyone.

Wilson W. Wilson

Right now I'm backstage, preparing all of the notes and papers I'll need to officiate.

It is such a sad occasion to have such a great life cut short, and I can tell that everyone is suffering a great deal, which is to be expected.

I can especially tell that young Randy is taking this hard. He'll probably be out at the fence soon, needing to talk.

It doesn't even appear as if he's cried. Everyone else's cheeks and eyes are a little red and puffy, his aren't. He seems so tense, I know he must be keeping all of his emotions bottled up inside.

Yes, I can definitely expect him to be out at the fence sometime soon.

Now I walk out, go by and give Lucille and Jill both a hug, and move towards the podium to begin officiating the service. I'll do my best, but no matter how good my best is, I know I will never consider it to be worthy enough for such a great man as Tim Taylor.

'We are gathered here today to honor the life and memory of Timothy Dick Taylor. Born October 25, 1954, died October 29, 1996, at the young age of 42' I begin.

I can already tell that it will be hard for me to keep a straight face throughout this funeral. I hope no one will notice.

Lucille Taylor's POV

I can't believe this. It seems like Mike's funeral all over again.

They're even playing most of the same hymns, like Amazing Grace and How Great Thou Art.

The worst part is, this is just shy of 31 years to the day that Mike's funeral was held.

All of Tim's brothers are here, even Rick and Steve, who have never had much to do with him.

Now I just want to know one thing, why does the officiator have his face hidden?

Jill Taylor's POV

It feels so horrible to have to be here today.

Now I know how Lucille must've felt when Michael died at such a young age.

I requested that it be a closed casket service, since Tim's body is still kind of distorted.

Now I can see Wilson standing at the podium, ready to begin the service. In typical Wilson fashion, his face is hidden, today by The Bible. If it wasn't such an inappropriate occasion, I'd almost have to have a chuckle over that.

But not today. Not now. I just can't.

When they started playing How Great Thou Art, I almost lost it, just thinking about how great Tim really was.

Mark's POV

This whole thing, my dad's death, just still hasn't quite sunk in yet.

Out of my brothers; I'm the one who's cried the most so far.

I think Brad is just trying to be his typical, macho self.

Randy, I think, just won't allow himself to cry. He would feel so much better if he did. I think the last time he's cried was when he found out that the lump on his neck could be malignant. Before that, I have no idea when the last time he cried was.

I don't know if it's just because I'm the youngest, and because Brad and Randy always picked on me the most because of that, but I've always seemed to be more sensitive than them.

I turn my attention to the front of the room as Wilson steps up to the podium to begin the service. I think he'll do a great job, he knows my dad almost as well as mom.

Brad Taylor's POV

I haven't told anyone this, but I was honestly a bit against terminating my dad's life.

That sounds odd. There has to be a better way to put that besides saying "terminating" or "pulling the cord/plug".

Any way you put it, it's still sad.

I don't think Randy has cried yet, he still looks too sad and tense, and too much like he has all of his emotions bottled up inside.

I wish he would cry. I know it would make him feel much better. It certainly has for me. Last night, I just locked the door to the bathroom, and just cried for about 10 minutes.

Randy's problem though, I think at least, is he won't allow himself to cry. He'll sit there and say that his body just doesn't have any tears to cry, but it might if he would just allow the possibility.

Now Wilson is getting ready to begin the service, so I direct all of my attention towards him.

Randy Taylor's POV

Usually I make jokes when someone dies, or even sometimes with dad at the person's funeral.

But that's all different today. And not just because dad isn't here; jokes just don't seem appropriate for this particular funeral.

The odd thing is, I have yet to cry, even in private. It's just like my body doesn't have any tears to cry.

Don't get me wrong, I'm extremely sad, and borderline depressed. I can't even begin to imagine how mom or grandma feels.

This is especially hard for me though, since I'm the only one who was really, honestly opposed to quote/unquote "pulling the cord".

I mean, stuff like this happens, and it just makes me wonder if there is really such a thing or being as God, and if He/She has a true master plan, or is just out to be a pain in the butt to everyone. I mean, how can He/She let something as tragic as this happen to His/Her own beings, their own creations!

I mean, it's not like older times when it wasn't really, truly known how everyone and everything came to be here on Earth.

This may seem a little hypocritical to think at a funeral, but it just makes me wonder.

I'm not sure if I believe this to the extent of being an atheist or agnostic or anything like that, but I'm not sure that I can logically 100 be sure that there is a higher being.

Maybe I should talk to Wilson about this after the service.

Now I can see Wilson walking up to the podium to begin the service. As always, a significant portion of his face is hidden.

A/N: I just want to state now, I do not concur with the religious beliefs I have Randy thinking of. I just wrote it to be controversial, and hopefully to piss religious zealots off.

No, I'm just joking about that, I want to piss anybody and everybody off.

But seriously, I am not agnostic or atheist. In fact I'm Baptist.

But anyways, enough of that. I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. The reason I put Randy's POV last, is because I just can't follow those comments about religion and/or God up with anything. It just doesn't seem right.

As always, please read and review.

I promise there will be lots of action and angst in the next chapter, I just felt I needed to do a funeral scene for Tim, since I didn't do one when he died in one of my other stories, Randy's Thoughts.

Now just one last item of business remains: Thank you Baxxie, once again for advice on what to write, and how to write it. I truly do appreciate it.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	4. Chapter 4: Patience Isn't the Remedy

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 4

Randy's POV

It's been about two weeks now since dad's funeral.

Everyone has kind of started to change. Brad is acting like nothing even happened, Mark is just a shell of himself, and mom hasn't slept hardly at all since then. I think I'm the only one who isn't really going through a grieving process. I don't know if I need to talk to someone or what, but I just don't seem to be able to grieve. I have to just keep being the strong, levelheaded one in the family.

Now, I realize that they're just grieving, but they can't act like this forever. Grieving won't bring him back.

Everybody has been really testy too. I mean, the other day mom snapped at Heidi for bringing us some bread and lunchmeat. I can understand where mom is coming from though. Everyone always brings the bereaved food. Like anyone actually feels like eating after someone's died? Right now, I kid you not, we have four loaves of bread that people have brought us.

Anyways, I just told tell mom to put the bread away, then I apologized to Heidi. Heidi said it wasn't a problem, she understood that mom was under a lot of stress, but I knew if mom was in her normal train of thought, she'd have wanted me to apologize.

It just seems like everybody is always arguing over something now. I just wish that everything could go back to normal.

I wonder what life would be like now if dad hadn't gone to work that day.

Maybe I should go out and talk to Wilson. Maybe he has some kind of advice for us to get through this.

'Hi Wilson' I say

'Heidi ho teenage Taylor trickster' he greets as he watches me jump up on to the lawn chair so I can see him better.

'Something smells good Wilson. What is it?' I ask.

'I would offer you some, but it's a vat of paint remover' explains Wilson.

'I'll pass then' I say with a smile.

'I figured you would' he replies.

'So what can I do for you?' he asks.

'I just wanted to talk. I haven't really had anyone to talk to about my dad's death' I respond.

'Well I'm not sure if I'm the proper person to be talking to' Wilson states.

'You think I should see a therapist about this?' I ask questioningly.

'No, I mean maybe you should try talking to your family. Especially your mom, she seems to be taking this extremely hard. Not that I blame her' suggests Wilson.

'That's just it. I don't really know how to approach her about this. We both need to talk to someone, but I don't know if I can. I mean, she's always grouchy anymore, and I don't want to piss her off otherwise it'll just complicate our lives even more' I say all in one breath.

'You need to just give it some time. Their grieving process will take as long as it's supposed to.You know, I'm reminded of the words of Publius Syrus. He said "Patience is a remedy for every sorrow" Wilson quotes.

'True. I'm still not sure how to talk to her about this' I say.

'Just go up to her and say "mom, I would like to talk to you about something". If I know Jill as well as I think do, she'll be glad to talk' says Wilson.

'Okay. Thanks for the advice Wilson. By the way, what are you taking paint off of?' I ask.

'Oh. I'm painting my mountain lion's room a different color' he says matter-of-factly.

'You know they make primer you could use instead of taking the paint off, right?' I ask.

'Yes, but that's not near as fun. Besides, this way I don't have to primer my cauldron when I go to paint it' Wilson says with a twinkle in his eyes, and maybe a smile. (I can't tell whether or not he's smiling because I can't see his face).

So I walk inside and see mom sitting on the couch.

'Mom, could I talk to you about something?' I ask nervously, just waiting for her to start yelling.

'Sure' she says in a monotone voice.

But she still just sits there and watches the TV.

'Could I talk to you without the TV on?' I ask.

'Sure' she says in the same monotone voice.

She presses the power button on the remote.

'I'm sorry sweetie, what do you want to talk about?' she asks, sounding like a human being now.

'I was hoping we could maybe talk about dad' I say, biting my lip afterwards, regretting doing this for what I'm sure is not going to be the first time.

'Okay. What about him?' mom asks indifferently. This pisses me off. She could show a _little _emotion.

But I continue, not mentioning my feelings about her lack of emotions.

'I don't know necessarily about what. Um, you know, actually, maybe we could do this later?' I say.

'Okay. I'm here if you need to talk. Just let me know when' she says, turning the TV back on.

I thought I could talk to her, but I just can't bring myself to do it. Besides, I don't even know if there's anything I want or need to talk about.

I mean, I'd like to voice my opinion on the decision to quote/unquote "pull the plug". But what do I say? "Hey mom, I don't think we should've pulled the plug on dad's life". That wouldn't work, she'd just get even more upset.

I know Wilson said patience is the only remedy for sorrow, or whatever, but how much patience can one have?

It just seems like I'm the only one who's even attempting to move on from this.

A/N: It's a bit of a short chapter, but the next chapter will be longer.

Anyways, read and review please.

I also want to thank Leonard Roy Frank, the editor of a book called "Quotationary", which is the source for all of the quotes I use in all of my stories. That book is the only reason I am able to do any scenes with Wilson.

P.S. Next chapter is going to be _very, very_ long. (I already have it written, and it's over 3,000 words).

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	5. Chapter 5: Broken Ribs and Bloody Boxers

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 5

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 5

A/N: This chapter takes place two years after the last chapter (actually two years to the day of Tim's death). The family is still dealing with the death in about the same way, but there are also some other problems going on now.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor

Randy's POV

Wow. Today is the two year anniversary of dad dying. Even in all of the hellishness that I live in now, I will always remember this date.

Things have changed so much. Mom has started drinking, as well as Brad. Brad is constantly beating on Mark, and sometimes he tries to beat on me. Mom doesn't even give a damn that he does. Usually she's passed out on the couch, or drinking her way to being passed out.

Wilson has offered several times to help, and even at one point offered to be her sponsor for AA. He always gets the same reply that two years ago would've been considered crude: "fuck off".

I honestly don't know if I can take another two years of this hell.

'Hey little bro, guess who's ready for their beating' says Brad as he wanders into the living room. I can tell he's drunk.

'Not me' I reply.

'Wrong, fuckhead' he says, calling me his favorite pet name besides "shithead". I wonder sometimes if he even remembers my real name. Just when he wants to really kick my ass.

At this, he picks me up by the shirt collar with one hand, and start punching me with the other hand. I've just learned to take the beating. Crying only makes him beat worse, and it won't make him stop, so it's pointless.

He punches me on my side, near my ribcage. Then again. Then again on the other side.

'Not so fuckin' tough now, are ya, shithead?' he says, slurring his speech horribly.

'I'm not crying, am I?' I taunt, knowing that this'll end the beating a little sooner.

'Brad, get your fucking ass over here if you want any booze' yells mom.

When he hears this, he throws me down, and stumbles over to the door. Yeah, like he needs more booze.

This pain is almost unbearable.

I wait for them to leave, and walk over to see Wilson.

He's not outside, so I knock on his door.

'Who is it?' he calls from someplace.

'It…it's Randy' I yell back through the pain.

'Oh Randy. What on earth has happened now?' he asks as he opens the door.

'Just Brad. I think I need to go to the hospital though. At least to get some pain medication. It's just really horrible this time. Wilson, he's getting better at punching, he's more accurate and swift with his blows' I say, trying to fight back tears.

Damn. This pain is so bad.

'Come on, get in my car and we'll go to the ER' says Wilson.

I walk, doubled over, to the garage, and get into the classic Mustang that Wilson has.

'What will you tell them this time?' Wilson inquires on the way to the ER.

'I suppose…No. I'm gonna tell them…the t-truth. I've gotta get the hell out of that house' I say through the occasional tear.

'Really? I agree, I'm just shocked. I thought that you were hell-bent against anyone finding out' says Wilson.

'I was. But this is so horrible. I can't take another two years of this crap. It drives me crazy' I say.

'Now what about Mark?' inquires Wilson. Now I know that he's just trying to kill time and keep my mind off the searing pain in my ribs.

'I'll tell him I'm leaving, but I can't tell him where. I can't tell a soul where I'm going. I'm sorry Wilson, but I can't even tell you where I'm going. I will call you sometime from a payphone maybe to let you know how I'm doing, but I just can't risk anyone knowing where I'm at' I say.

'So you are definitely leaving then?' he asks as we pull up to the Detroit Memorial Emergency Room doors.

'I don't have a choice, Wilson' I respond.

'I'll definitely miss you, Taylor teen' he says, choking back tears.

'I've changed my mind. I'll just say it was a fight with someone. It won't be a lie. If I tell the truth, then they'll try to set me up with foster parents or some BS like that. I don't want another set of parents. I just need to be away from mom and Brad, and I'll be fine' I state.

I walk into the emergency room quite a sight. I'm keeled over at the waist, due to the pain in my ribs.

The desk clerk hands me some papers to fill out, and I sit down to begin the long, hard process. I start coughing, so I head to the restroom. Before I can make it there, I begin coughing up huge spurts of blood, causing the white sanitary looking tile to turn bright red.

A doctor sees this, and takes me on back to be seen.

'Hi, I'm Dr. Bungy' says the woman.

'So, what seems to be the problem today, other then hacking up blood?' Dr. Bungy says with a smile.

'I was in a fight, and now I seem to have a little bit of abdominal pain' I explain, as if matters were in fact that simple.

'You was in a fight you say?' she asks as she's feeling around on my sides.

'Ye-yes' I answer, wincing when she gets to the places where Brad was punching me.

'Alright, I want to do x-rays just to be positive, but from the way it looks, it sounds like a couple of your ribs are broken' diagnoses Dr. Bungy.

'Okay' I simply say.

'Who's that with you there?' she asks looking towards Wilson for really the first time.

'He's my uncle. My dad's dead, and my mom isn't home, so he drove me here' I lie.

Then I toss Wilson a glance that says "for the love of God, go along with this story". He catches my eye, and understands completely.

'Okay. We'll have someone come down in a moment to take you to x-ray' smiles Dr. Bungy on her way out.

'What'll you do if they don't buy your story about being in a fight?' asks Wilson, sounding interested.

'I don't know. I guess I'll make them believe it, since it is partially true' I respond.

'Mr. Taylor, they're ready for you down in x-ray' a cheery young nurse says after us waiting for about 40 minutes.

'Alright. So, how do I get down there in this hospital gown without flashing everyone my underwear?' I ask, almost smiling.

I can't wear my clothes because they're soaked in blood. (Which means on the way home I'll have to wear my jacket and my underwear).

'Just have your grandfather walk behind you' she says flashing us a radiantly white smile.

I try to keep up with her, and try to keep the robe from showing off my butt, but can't do both at the same time, so I finally decide to let go of the robe, rather than asking Nurse Peppy to slow down her pace. I'm not sure, but I think I may have had a teenage girl whistle as I walked past. Well, if nothing else, I'll find a date here.

'Right through this door, and then on down. It'll be the first room on the left' says Nurse Smiley.

I still can't believe that they made me walk down here, and are making me wait here, sitting here in nothing more than a thin hospital gown and a pair of boxers that are about two sizes too tight.

Surprisingly the wait isn't long. Only about 15 minutes. (Of course, it is 9:00 in the morning on a Sunday, so they aren't that busy).

'Randy Taylor?' calls another nurse, who looks older and has a less radiant smile.

I stand up, not without much trouble. I'm not sure, but I may have just mooned an old man in the process. How embarrassing.

'Right back this way' smiles the older edition of Nurse Peppy.

'Okay, sir you'll have to put a protection vest on so the radiation won't cause any damage' says the technician who I assume will be running the x-ray machine to Wilson. Finally, someone in this damn place who doesn't smile 24/7.

'And you' the technician begins, directing this order at me 'need to go over there and stand behind that machine'.

'Alright' I say, walking over to stand behind the x-ray machine.

'I'm going to start up the machine now. I need you stand real still so we can get a good x-ray' the woman says.

It's funny how when you have to stand still, it's so hard to do, but I manage.

So I stand there like a statue and wait for the x-ray to be done.

'All done' the technician says after a couple of minutes.

'Now you can just head back to your bed, and a doctor will be with you once they've looked the x-rays over' instructs the technician.

Once we arrived back to the bed, I started coughing again. Again, blood came up, and some got splattered on my underwear.

The nurse who brought us back there saw this, and gave me a look.

'I am **not **taking off my underwear' I said rather harshly, giving the nurse a look that dared her to challenge me.

After about half an hour of waiting, Dr. Bungy walked in.

'Randy, the x-rays have unfortunately proved me right. Two of your middle ribs on both your right and left side are broken' she says with the best fake glum look that she can muster.

'Okay, so what can we do about that?' I ask.

'Well, they aren't fractured badly, so all we can do is wait for time to heal. I will prescribe you some acetaminophen with codeine for the pain' Dr. Bungy says.

'Okay. So am I free to go?' I ask.

'Yes. Drop this prescription off at a pharmacy before you head home' instructs the doctor.

'Alright' I say, just happy to be getting out of the hospital, but not happy to be going home.

As I walk through the waiting room, I get whistles of all kinds even though the blood on my white boxers looks a little tacky. Maybe I have a future as a stripper. Maybe not, but you never know.

Luckily Wilson parked the car right near the front of the emergency room.

'When are you leaving?' Wilson asks on the way home.

'As soon as possible, most likely once I can walk without pain. But I'm going to begin searching for someplace tonight though' I answer.

'I have a friend who could get you set up with an apartment' offers Wilson.

'No, remember, I can't have anyone knowing where I am. I want to just leave this life behind me' I remind him.

'True. Just let me know if I can do anything to help' he says with a smile.

'Alright' I reply.

The rest of the ride home is spent in silence.

When I walk in the house, I can see mom passed out on the couch, as always, and Brad is on the steps.

After I change clothes I go upstairs and find Mark.

I knock on the door.

'Mark, it's Randy' I say quietly.

'What is it?' he asks without opening the door.

'Brad really hurt me this time. He fractured some of my ribs. I'm sorry, but I have to get the hell out of here. I'm doing it tonight' I whisper through a small crack in the door.

At this, he opens the door.

'Take me with you' he begs.

'No, I can't. I don't even know where the hell I'm going yet. I just can't take this anymore' I say, regretting telling him this.

'If you leave me here, then Brad will only give me more hell because you left. I can't take this shit much longer' Mark says, beginning to cry now. Geez, he hasn't cried since dad's funeral.

'Alright, listen. I can't take you with me, no matter what. But I will have Wilson take you someplace. But you can't come with me. No way in hell' I say.

'Get your things together. Mom and Brad are passed out. When I come up here with my things, we'll leave' I command.

I head down to the basement and grab the biggest duffel bag I have. I pack all the clothes I can fit, a couple of my favorite books, my Tylenol 3 that I just got, and two pictures. One of the entire family, and the other of me and dad at a Tigers game when I was seven.

Next I grab all of the information I have about my bank accounts, and gather up any and all money that I have stashed in my room. I put the money in my wallet, and head upstairs with the duffel bag in tow.

Not wanting to risk Brad or mom finding out about my plan and trying to sabotage it, I take the bag upstairs with me to get Mark.

'Mark come on. I'm leaving now' I half yell, half whisper

'Alright. I'll be down in a minute' he says back.

I walk downstairs and look around at the house for one last time.

I go to the kitchen and grab a butcher's knife to use for protection in case something goes wrong. I put it in the duffel bag as well.

I grab my coat and put it on. As I'm doing so, I can see Mark coming downstairs.

'Come on. I'm going to take you over to Wilson's then I'm going to come back over here and take the Mustang. Mark, you have to be strong though. We both do. We can't look back. We just have to be strong and leave. It's what dad would want' I say.

I open the door, and walk over with him to Wilson's house.

I knock on the door.

'Wilson, it's Randy' is all I say.

'Randy, what's happened now?' Wilson asks, looking a little stressed out and ticked off.

'Nothing. I just need you to do something with Mark. He wants out, and I can't take him with me. We both just need to leave this life behind' I explain.

'Okay. Sure thing. Mark, I have some friends that you can stay with' Wilson says.

'Bye Wilson. I might see you again some day, but I doubt it. Don't worry though, I'll always remember you, and I'll always think about you too. I'll call sometime' I say, beginning to weep a little bit.

'Wilson, could you do me one last favor?' I ask.

'Well sure, what is it?' he says obligingly.

'Could you say "Heidi ho neighbor"?' I inquire.

'Heidi ho neighbor' Wilson greets one last time.

As I head out that door, I'm hit with a wave of sorrow and regret. You never realize how much you take for granted until you can't take it for granted anymore.

I walk over to my house for one last time.

There I grab my duffel bag, and walk out to the garage. To cut down on excess noise, I manually open the garage door. I put the duffel bag in the mustang, and then walk back inside.

Inside I walk over to the couch, where mom is.

'Bye mom. I know that this isn't the way the real you acts, but I can't take anymore of it. I don't blame you for anything. I might never see you again, but I'll still always love you' I say through a sea of tears.

Once again, I head out to the garage. I take a pair of needle nose pliers down from the peg board. Dad bought these when Brad, Mark, and I took his to make him a birthday present. I put those in my duffel bag as well. Then I take them out again, and set them on the front seat on the passenger side. At least this way I won't be making the trip alone.

I now start up the car, and pull out of the drive way, for the first time in my life, not knowing where I'm going.

I don't know if mom or Brad heard the car start, or hear the garage close through their drunken haze, and I don't really care.

As I pull away from 510 Glenview Road, I begin to cry. I can't believe I'm actually doing this. I may be free now from the pain and the hellish world of living with two alcoholics, but now I feel like I'm a prisoner of my past. But I can't let myself be a prisoner of the past for long. I need to just move on.

A/N: Geez, there's over 2900 words in this chapter, but there was no real way for me to split it up into two parts. There's just no one point where I can cut it off.

So from here on out, this story will be focused almost entirely on Randy. Mark will make the occasional appearance, and Brad and Jill may have a cameo or two, but it will mainly be about Randy trying to start his life over again.

Also, I know some of the medical stuff may be off, but I'm not a doctor, you know? But I do try to be as accurate and realistic as possible.

As always, please read and review. I love to get reviews.

Anyways, if you have any idea as to where Randy should end up going to, and how he might get there, let me know. (I'm thinking like some major city. Especially someplace far away from Detroit, like Chicago, Boston, et cetera). Just private message me, and if I like the idea, I'll use it. If I use it, I'll give you credit.

At this point, I'm just trying to think of things to write so I can get 3,000 words in this chapter. (Which I have now succeeded in doing).

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	6. Chapter 6: SoCal is So Cool

* * *

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 6

Randy's POV

I'm not even sure where to go now. I know I need to get out of here. I'm not even sure if I have enough money to get me anywhere.

Let's see. I have 160 dollars with me, and 2500 some odd dollars in the bank. Plus the money for college, but I don't want to tap into that. I'll need that for wherever I go. (Besides, I can't even access that for another year yet).

Where can I go? Milwaukee, maybe? No, that's too close to Detroit. How about…Chicago? Ugh. No. Just the thought of having to associate with Chicago Cubs fans makes me want to puke. Or is that the Tylenol with codeine? Maybe it's a combination of the two.

Maybe I'll just drive until I get to someplace that looks decent. God knows how long that'll take, but I just have to get the hell out of Detroit, and get the hell out of Michigan altogether.

At least my bank account is with a nationwide bank, so I don't have to worry about not being able to access my money.

* * *

Eight Days Later

Los Angeles is such a beautiful city, I think I'll just stay here.

The first thing I do is check into a motel. Then I buy a paper, and begin a search for apartments.

After about 10 minutes of looking, I find some that don't look too terribly expensive.

I check the number. 555-1181. I dial the number.

A man answers 'Hello'.

'Yes. I saw your ad in the paper about the apartments. I was wondering if I could rent one' I say, not really sure what to say, considering the fact I've never rented an apartment before.

'Sure. You can come by in about 20 minutes, and I'll show you around' the man offers.

I grab the keys to the Mustang, and head out the door. I stop by the motel front desk and grab a map of LA so I can find my way to the apartments.

20 minutes later, I'm at the apartment building, waiting on the man to get there.

I'm surprised when I see the man pull up in a lime green Aston Martin. I'm even more surprised when I see the man get out of the car. He must be at least 80, and kind of looks like a bald Hal Holbrook.

'I'm the guy that called about the apartments' I greet.

'Where's the rest of ya, son?' asks the man.

I don't really know how to reply to this, but it doesn't matter since the man doesn't give me a chance.

'Come on in. I'll show you the apartments that we have vacant' invites the old man.

'My name's Jackson' he introduces himself.

'Nice to meet you Jackson. I'm Randy Taylor' I say, extending my hand to shake his. The gesture isn't returned.

'I don't care much for hand shaking' explains Jackson.

'Just let me get the keys, and we can be off to see the apartments. I got three of 'em available' Jackson says.

Again, the man makes a statement that is hard to reply to. So I go with a simple 'okay'.

'Now this first one has a nice view outside, but you have to furnish it yourself' Jackson informs me.

I know that that just won't do at all, since I have limited finances, but I still look at the apartment just to be polite.

'This next one has everything in it, including a dishwasher and a microwave oven' states Jackson.

It looks good, but the view isn't so nice. So we move onto the third one.

After seeing this one, I would venture to guess that it's true what they say, "the third time's a charm".

The third apartment was completely furnished and had a wonderful view.

'I'll take this one' I say after the grand tour.

'Okay. The rent is 125, and then another 70 for utilities' Jackson informs me.

A little high end, but considering everything, it's pretty affordable.

'You'll need to come down to my office and sign some papers' says Jackson.

'You can move in in a couple of days' he adds.

'Okay' I respond simply.

I follow Jackson downstairs to his office. There I sign the necessary papers, and walk away with a permanent place to live.

Okay, now things are starting to fall into place. Now I just need a job.

Damn! I just thought about something. In all of the panic of trying to get away from Detroit, I completely forgot about someone! Lauren! What will she think? I didn't even think to explain anything to her.

I'll just have to call her when I get back to the motel. I need to call Wilson too like I said I would.

Somebody took what I deemed "the perfect parking space" while I was gone apartment shopping. Now I have to park in the sun. Oh well.

Once inside the room again, I grab my duffel bag and toss it on the bed. Then I lay down beside it, and dig through it to find my address book. It doesn't take long. Then I find Lauren's number, and dial it.

I sat there and just prayed that Lauren would answer, and not her parents or sisters.

'Hello' answers Lauren. Finally, a familiar voice!

'Hi Lauren' I say, smiling uncontrollably.

'Randy! Oh my God, Randy!' she yells at the top of her lungs.

'Lauren, you gotta keep it down, I can't have people knowing where I am' I say.

'Where are you anyways? You're mom and brother is pissed that you and Mark left together' says Lauren.

'Mark isn't with me. I left him with Wilson. Me, I'm in California. That's all I can say' I answer.

'Randy, where? How do I get a hold of you?' she asks, sounding a little annoyed that I won't reveal my location.

'In LA. But don't tell anyone Lauren. And you can't get a hold of me. I have to get a hold of you. I can't have my mom or Brad finding out where I am' I reply.

'What about Wilson? Does he know where you are?' Lauren asks, continuing the bombardment of questions.

'No. I'm calling him next' I say.

'Randy, someday I want you to tell me where you live. I want to move there. We can go to college together, or at least live together. I miss you so much' gushes Lauren.

'I miss you too. You don't know how often driving up here I wished you were with me' I say, letting a lone tear trickle out my eye, and down my cheek.

'I'm sorry Randy, I have to go now. I want you to call me back soon though. Promise me you will' Lauren says. I can tell now that she's crying.

'I promise' I say, starting to cry myself.

'I love you Randy. And someday we'll be together again' says Lauren, crying harder now.

'I love you too. Someday I will get you moved down here' I say back, through a sea of tears.

For a couple of minutes, we just sit there crying. Then Lauren hangs up, and I follow suit.

Next I call Wilson.

A/N: I'll have the call between Wilson and Randy in the next chapter.

I'm sorry if the fees and information for the apartment is wrong, but you can add renting an apartment to the list of things I've never done before.

Please read and review, I do appreciate getting reviews.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	7. Chapter 7: The Drink Takes Two

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 7

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 7

Next I call Wilson.

'Heidi ho unidentified user of the typically tacky toned, tongue-twisting telephone' Wilson answers. Wow, imagine having to say that every time you answer the phone.

'Hi Wilson' I greet, just waiting for the same rush of emotions that overcame Lauren to overcome him.

But, nothing. Absolute silence.

'I can't talk now. Call me back in 10 minutes' Wilson says shortly.

'Uh, no one. Just a wrong number' I can hear him holler to someone before he hangs up.

I wonder what could be going on. Surely mom doesn't care enough about where I am to be worrying over me being gone, right? I mean, she hasn't been sober for more than two or three days at a time in a year and a half. I guess maybe this is what it takes for her to give a damn about something other than alcohol.

Well, too bad. She's too late with this. I needed her to give a damn throughout the past two years, but after the funeral, she never did. I'm not going back now. I've completely left that life behind, which includes her.

I wait for about 10 minutes, then dial Wilson's number again.

'Heidi ho unidentified user of the typically tacky toned, tongue-twisting telephone' Wilson greets again.

'Hey Wilson. What was the matter before?' I ask right off the bat.

'Nothing. I just had to get something out of the oven' he says. I can tell he's lying to me.

'The truth' I command.

'The truth is, your mom was here. She's worried to death over you and Mark being gone. She thought that I might know where you all were at. Of course I don't, so I didn't really have to lie' Wilson explains.

'Well, you know where Mark is' I point out.

'No, I entrusted him with a friend of mine, and that friend is some place on the West coast' Wilson says.

'Good. He needs to be far away from the alcohol induced hell of the Taylor house too' I say.

'You know, Jill hasn't even touched a drink since you left' says Wilson.

'I don't care. If I came back, she'd start drinking again. I can't take it anymore' I say, hoping this conversation doesn't take the same turns the one on the way to the emergency room did.

'So where are you, anyways?' Wilson inquires.

'All I can say is I'm in California. I told Lauren where, but she is sworn to secrecy' I answer.

'Well do you have a place to stay?' asks Wilson, concerned.

'Yeah. Well, I'm at a motel right now, but I just signed some papers on a rather cheap, nice looking apartment. I'm going to begin looking for work here tomorrow' I reply.

'Good. If you ever need **anything** don't hesitate to call me. Even if it's just someone to talk to, call me. Even if it's 3 in the morning, I won't mind. Anything for one of Tim Taylor's offspring' Wilson says.

'Okay, I will. I'm going to hang up now, alright? I'm going to try to get some sleep. It's been a long, hard two days' I say.

'Alright. It's been nice talking to you Randy. Please do call again' Wilson says, then hangs up.

I sit there for a moment. I can't bear to hang up the phone. Eventually I do, whether or not I want to.

I move the duffel bag to the floor, and pull back the covers of the bed. I then head to the bathroom, and realize I have no toothbrush with me. Oh well, I guess one night won't of not brushing won't hurt.

So I strip down to a pair of underwear, turn off the lights, close the curtains (since it is only a quarter after 7), and get into bed, and fall asleep surprisingly fast.

* * *

Earlier That Day

Jill's POV

'Wilson, I just can't believe that they would do this' I say through the pain of a hangover.

'Well Jill, I can kind of understand why they might. After all, you haven't been too terribly supportive since Tim died' Wilson replies.

Damn. He's right. For nearly two years now, I've been using alcohol to cope with Tim's death. And I've been letting Brad cope that way too. The worst part is I've left Randy and Mark in the dust. I just let the booze take over my life.

'Have they ever mentioned doing anything like this to you? Did they say where they might go?' I ask Wilson.

Just by the look on his face, I can tell that they have mentioned it, and I can tell that he's debating whether or not he should tell the truth.

* * *

Wilson's POV

'Have they ever mentioned doing anything like this to you? Did they say where they might go?' I ask Wilson.

I wish she hadn't asked that. I know I should tell her the truth, but not only would it break the deal Randy and I had, but it would make Jill feel even worse to know that this was premeditated.

Luckily, the phone rings, and saves me from having to answer her, at least for the mean time.

'Heidi ho unidentified user of the typically tacky toned, tongue-twisting telephone' I answer using my usual greeting that doesn't make much sense, but is fun to say and sounds really neat.

'Hi Wilson' young Randy greets.

I can't talk to him with Jill here.

'Call back in 10 minutes' I instruct. I'll just have to get Jill out of here by then.

'Who is it?' Jill hollers nosily.

'No one, just a wrong number' I shout back.

Again, I'm forced to lie.

'Jill, you need to get serious about this. You've already lost Marcus and Randy to alcohol. Do you want to lose yourself or Brad any further to alcohol?' I ask as I re-enter the den.

* * *

Jill's POV

I wonder if it was Randy or maybe Mark on the phone.

Jill, you need to get serious about this. You've already lost Marcus and Randy to alcohol. Do you want to lose yourself or Brad any further to alcohol?' he asks as he re-enters the den.

'Drinking has not taken over my life' I lie, knowing damn good and well that it in fact has taken over my life, and Brad's as well.

'I'm reminded of the words of F. Scott Fitzgerald. He said "First you take a drink, then the drink takes a drink, then the drink takes you"' quotes Wilson.

'So what you're saying is that my drinking killed my relationship with two of my sons, and changed my relationship with the other one from mother to drinking buddy' I suggest.

'I believe that Thomas Fuller put it best when he said "Wine hath drowned more Men than the sea"' Wilson states.

'Yeah. Well thanks Wilson. Let me know if you hear anything m-out of them' I catch myself. I almost said if he heard anything **more** out of the boys.

I leave now, and head back around the fence.

Once home I find every ounce of liquor in the household and dump it down the drain.

* * *

Wilson's POV

It's such a shame that Jill had to go through this.

I wonder if anything I said will get through to her. I wonder if this is what it will take for her to get her act together. I can only hope.

Now I just sit here and wait for Randy to call back.

A/N: So will Jill stay sober? Where's Mark? Will Randy find a job? Will Brad give up drinking? Will Wilson continue to play counselor to the family? Keep reading to find out.

Oh, and by the way, I know this line: _'Heidi ho unidentified user of the typically tacky toned, tongue-twisting telephone' _makes absolutely no sense, but I just needed something that sounded cool and started with the same letters.

As always, please read and review.

BTW, the reason I'm doing a mass update of my stories is today I have to have surgery performed on my nose, so I won't feel like writing or updating for at least a week, probably closer to two.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	8. Chapter 8: Yo Boston! Do the Macarena!

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 8

A/N: This chapter starts the day after Randy and Mark leave Detroit. And I'll forewarn everyone, I don't think this is a very good chapter. In fact, I borderline _hate _this chapter. Well, not necesarily the chapter, but more the premise. The only reason I'm posting it is because I feel that it's a necessary chapter. (And I think that people would probably be angry if I didn't let them know where Mark goes).

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor

* * *

Mark's POV

I wonder where Randy is right now. Maybe there will be some coincidence and we'll end up in the same town or something like that.

Right now Wilson's friend Willie David is taking me to Boston. I'm not sure what I'll do when we get there, but at least I'll be out of Detroit.

Willie's already told me I'll have to pretend to be his nephew, Taylor David, once we get there.

He (Willie) looks nice. He's maybe 50-55, he has grey hair, and Wilson says he's a mechanic.

So far we've spent most of the ride in silence, just listening to the radio. The only time Willie has said anything about the music is when the radio station played "Macarena".

I wish Randy would've let me go with him, it would make leaving Michigan a lot easier for both me and him.

'Mark, we'll stop at a gas station a few miles up ahead, and you can call Wilson if you want' Willie says to me.

'Okay' I reply.

Uh-oh. Macarena is playing on the radio again.

'You can't tell me these people were in their right mind when they recorded this song' says Willie, eyeing the radio in disgust.

I just laugh. I'm not sure if he's really this funny all the time, or if he's just trying to make the move easier on me. Or maybe it's a combination of both.

As we pull up to the gas station, I fight the urge to get out and start doing the Macarena. We both go inside, do our business, then I find some change for the payphone. I dial Wilson's number, but get a message saying that the number's wrong.

'Area code' I mumble.

I dial the area code for Detroit, then Wilson's number. This time I'm successful.

'Heidi ho unidentified user of the typically tacky toned, tongue-twisting telephone' Wilson answers. That makes absolutely no sense, but this is Wilson.

'Hi Wilson' I answer chuckling.

'Mark. How are you?' he asks.

'I'm okay. We're stopped at a gas station in Kentucky' I say.

'Have you heard anything out of Randy?' I ask.

'No, I haven't' replies Wilson.

'What about mom?' I inquire.

'No' Wilson says again.

'I'm not really surprised. I didn't figure you would' I lie. I had hoped she would be worried a little bit.

* * *

A Week Later

Mark's POV

Boston is such a beautiful city. I still miss being in Detroit, but I try not to think about that.

Willie has me registered at a school near his house, even though I insisted that I could lie about my age and get a job. I'm sure Randy has a job wherever he is. Even though I'm pretty sure I shouldn't be, I am so jealous of Randy right now. I mean, he has a car of his own, he can do what he wants, and he's probably even having fun with this whole thing.

I must sound like I hate Randy, but I don't. I just hate the fact that he wouldn't take me with him. His reasoning was perfectly logical though. He's going to have a hard enough time supporting himself, let alone trying to take care of someone else. And he figures that if mom somehow finds him, he won't have to worry about me being caught too.

'M-, I mean Taylor, I'm leaving to go to work now. I'll be home for lunch around 12:30 or so' Willie says. I've almost slipped up a couple of times and called myself Mark.

'Okay. See you then' I respond.

Finally I'll be able to have some time alone. Willie's great, but he's being kind of overbearing.

I sit down on the couch and turn on the TV. I don't find anything else, so out of desperation, I put it on Regis and Kathie Lee.

After a few minutes, it switches from Regis and Kathie Lee to The View. I decide I'm not that desperate, and turn the TV off. I walk into the kitchen, and open the refrigerator. Not a whole lot inside. Some orange juice, mayonnaise, cheese, bologna, butterscotch pudding, and a gallon of milk. I take out the juice, and start searching cabinets to find a glass. Damn it Willie, why didn't you tell me where things were at in this house? Eventually I find a glass, and take it over to the counter.

After pouring a glass of juice, I take it outside and sit on the steps of his apartment. Under other circumstances, I would love to live in Boston.

I wish mom was here. My real mom, not the woman who is a constantly drunk alcoholic. Unfortunately, now I have to just pretend that no one in Detroit ever even existed.

* * *

A/N: First off, before I start getting flamed, let me state that I think the Macarena is a great song.

Anyways, I wrote this chapter because I figured everyone would want to know how things went for Mark. Next chapter I'll be back to Randy.

As always, please read and review if you want more chapters. I really do appreciate getting reviews. (Even bad ones).

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	9. Chapter 9: Bank First, Be First

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 9

A/N: I just want to comment on something from last chapter. I know that now it's Regis and Kelly, but this story takes place back in 1998, when he was still with Kathie Lee Gifford. (And yes, I know this because I actually used to watch it).

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor

* * *

Randy's POV

I wake up once through the night, around a quarter after 4. I soon fell back to sleep, and didn't wake up until 9:00.

Now it's around 10:30, and I'm sitting in a small diner near the motel where I'm staying, sipping coffee and waiting for my bowl of oatmeal to arrive.

I have a busy day ahead of me. I need to withdraw my money from the bank where it is and close that account so mom can't get it. I'm then going to open an account with a local bank, or at least a bank that doesn't have any branches in Detroit, and deposit my money there. Then of course I have to try to find a job some place. Plus I have to go to a Wal-Mart or something similar to get a toothbrush, toothpaste, and all of those types of things.

'Here's your oatmeal sir' smiles the young waitress who calls me sir, even though she's probably only 2 or 3 years older than I am.

I begin searching the tabletop for something to kick the oatmeal up a notch. Aha! Blueberry pancake syrup is perfect for adding flavor to bland oatmeal. I garner stares as I pour a third of the bottle of syrup into my bowl of oatmeal. I look up to confront the onlookers, but they return to minding their business as soon as I do.

Ignoring all stares and whispers and comments, I sit there and eat the cereal as if it was the last edible thing on Earth. I drink two more cups of coffee before paying the bill and leaving.

Once outside, I walk over to the spot where I thought I parked the Mustang. But, upon my arrival, I find a Charger instead. I begin to panic, then think to check on the other side of the building. Luckily, I just forgot where I parked.

I get in the Mustang, then drive back to the motel to search the yellow pages for a bank. I know that might not be the best method to use, but I have no knowledge of the Southern California banking world.

* * *

A Couple of Hours Later

Surely one of these banks I've found isn't a money hungry, screw over everybody who associates with them type bank.

You know, I just thought of something. If I'm going to get a decent job out here, I'll need to have references. But who could be a reference? Wilson is an obvious choice. I don't know who else could be though.

I decide to call Wilson, and ask him to lie for me so I can get a job. (Maybe that isn't the most ethical thing to do, but who ever said LA was 100 percent ethical?)

'Heidi ho unidentified user of the typically tacky toned, tongue twisting telephone' Wilson greets as usual.

'Hey Wilson, it's Randy' I respond.

'Well Randy. How are you?' asks Wilson impatiently.

'Oh, I'm managing. I was just calling to ask a major favor. I'm going to need a job obviously, and to get a decent one I'll need references. As of right now, you're the only one I can think of. I just wanted to make sure it was okay before I put you down for anything' I explain the situation.

'Of course you can use me as a reference Randy' Wilson replies.

'Now, chances are I'll need you to lie about my age though. No one will want to hire a 16 year old for a worthwhile position' I caution him.

'If I thought it would help you, I'd shoot myself in the foot' chuckles Wilson. I laugh at that as well.

'Well, I don't have a need for a bloody foot yet, but I'll let you know if I ever do' I smile.

'Alright. Randy, I'm so sorry I have to go now, but take care of your self, alright?' Wilson says.

'I will. I'll talk to you later Wilson' I say before hanging up the receiver.

For the second time today I grab the car keys and head out the door.

On the way to the car, I glance down at my arms. I look like I've been in a tanning bed for the past three days. Geez, I didn't realize that I'd been out and about _that_ much. I guess living in Los Angeles does that to you. (Of course, I tan real easily anyways. My skin can be two shades darker than it was after spending only a few hours outside on a sunny day).

I enjoy pulling out of the motel parking lot while I can, since I move this Saturday. (And today's Thursday).

The first place I go is the bank that currently holds my money.

'Hello, how may I help you?' asks the bank teller.

'I have an account with this bank, and I would like to close it' I say, maybe with _too much_ of a smile.

'Okay, what's the account number?' she asks.

I spout off my account number, and all of the other necessary information.

'Okay, now we're going to have to send you over to a personal banker to actually close the account' beams the teller.

'Okay' I say, as I head over to a different side of the bank.

'That woman right over there' says the teller pointing 'can help you after she finishes with the person she's helping right now'.

After a few minutes the man stands up, and I walk over to the woman's desk.

'Hello' the woman greets with a smile. I read her nametag. Her name is Natalie.

'Hi' I say back.

'So, what can I do for you today sir?' Natalie asks.

'I would like to close my account' I reply.

'Just because my mother knows some information about it, and I don't want her doing anything with my money' I add when Natalie gets an offended look on her face.

'Oh, okay. You'll just have to fill out some information, then go back to the teller over there and she'll give you your money' explains Natalie.

She hands me a clipboard containing about maybe half a dozen papers, although I only need to fill out the equivalent of three.

Once everything is complete, I hand the clipboard back to Natalie.

'Okay, now like I said before, you just go back over to one of the tellers and you can withdraw your money' Natalie instructs.

So I walk back over to the station where I was before. I wait my turn in line behind four other people (and this is the shortest line!), and eventually get up to the front of the line.

'Did you get everything taken care of?' asks the teller, recognizing me.

'Yes. I just need to withdraw the money now' I respond.

'Okay. Let me pull up your account information here. You'll have to excuse me, I need to get our branch manager to sign off on this transaction, since such a large amount is involved' explains the teller, whose name is Abby. (I can tell from her nametag).

'What is it?' asks the woman who I assume is the branch manager as she approaches the station where Abby is working at.

'This young man has closed his account and needs to withdraw the money, but it's such a large transaction that you have to sign off on it Patty' responds Abby.

'Well can't Blaine or Shaun do it?' snaps the woman named Patty.

'No, it has to be the branch manager, you should know that since you've been one for 20 years' replies Abby, trying not to lose her temper.

Patty signs a slip of paper with huge gusto, and sighs heavily once she's finished.

'Okay Mr. Taylor. You have 2,340 in your account. How would you like that? In 10s, 20s, 50s?' inquires Abby.

'It doesn't matter. Whatever is most convenient for you' I respond.

She counts out the money and puts in an envelope. After that, I leave the bank, get in the car, and start looking for the new bank I've found. The name of it is First Bank. (I especially like their motto: "Bank First, Be First").

After driving for around 15 minutes, I find the bank I'm looking for. Unfortunately, there's no place to park in the parking lot. I briefly consider parking in the street, then think better of it. I pull over to an out of business gas station three buildings over, and then hike to the bank with all of my money in tow.

* * *

A/N: I'll continue this next chapter. I'm trying to extend this story, otherwise it will probably only go 14 or 15 chapters.

As always, please R&R. Reviews are not only fun to read, but they help improve my writing skills. (And I'll be the first to admit I'm no Stephen King or John Grisham).

Sorry if any bank information is wrong, but I don't work for a bank. (Actually, I don't work at all)!

Oh, and try the thing with the oatmeal and blueberry syrup. It's really, really good.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	10. Chapter 10: Preschoolers and Republicans

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 10

* * *

A/N: This chapter takes place about a week and half after the last one did.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor

* * *

Randy's POV

'Hi Lauren' I greet her. (Over the phone, that is. I wish it was in person, but alas, it is not).

'Hey Randy! How are you?' she asks.

'Oh, I'm okay. I got moved into my apartment. You know, I honestly never thought I'd want to live in an apartment, but this place isn't too bad. How about you?' I respond.

'Well, I miss you. I wish I was there with you. Now, what about a job? Have you been able to find anything?' asks Lauren.

'Actually, yes, I have found something. I don't have the job yet, but I've applied for the position. I mean, I think I'm really suited for the job, I'm qualified, and I have a bit of connection with the person who interviewed me. Believe it or not, she knows Wilson! So, what do you think about it?' I answer.

'Randy, what _is_ the position?' Lauren asks in a somewhat annoyed tone that I know is fake.

'Oh, I guess I might want to tell you, huh? It's a job working for a daycare' I reply.

'That's great Randy! You're great with kids!' Lauren screeches, almost sounding like a harpy in the process.

'I just hope I don't wind up being turned into a human toy, like Richard Pryor in "The Toy"' I say. Lauren just laughs.

'I think they were a little nervous about hiring a male for the job, but once the woman found out I knew Wilson, she seemed to be a bit more at peace with the idea' I say.

'Is there anyone that Wilson doesn't know?' asks Lauren.

'You know, I don't really think so. I think everyone has a connection with that man' I laugh.

'I'm honestly beginning to wonder' she replies.

'So what have you been up to?' I ask Lauren.

'Just the same old same old. I've been busy with school. They made me the editor of the school paper since you're not here anymore' she says.

'What about Brad and my mom? How are they doing? Are they still walking around in a drunken stupor?' I question.

'Actually, I don't think you're my mom has had a drink since the day you and Mark left. She seems to be taking your leaving really hard, but she also seems to be back to her old self, at least somewhat' says Lauren.

'What about Brad?' I ask, not missing a beat.

'Brad is still having some issues. He doesn't drink as much as he used to, but I think he's started doing drugs now. His personality has really changed, even more so than what it had ' Lauren replies with a huge sigh at the end.

'How has his personality changed?' I ask, just being my nosy self.

'Well…like…the other day at school, I was standing in the hall and one of my friends said something funny, and we all started laughing just as he was walking by, and so he came over to me, and started yelling at me and calling me names. For a second there, I though he was going to hit me' she says hesitantly.

'He didn't do any of this to any of your friends?' I ask, starting to get hot under the collar.

'No, just me' replies Lauren.

'That bastard! If I ever see him again, I _will_ hit him. You can bet on that' I say, borderline shout.

'Don't Randy, he's not worth it' Lauren says, trying to calm me down. Amazingly enough, it works.

'Yeah, you're right' I say, taking a couple of deep breaths to calm my self.

'Listen Randy, I have to go. I have to get to swimming practice, but I'll talk to you when you call here again, okay?' Lauren says, sounding sorry she can't talk to me for the next decade.

'Yeah, that's fine. I'm going to this comedy club tonight. I'm actually going to try to do a bit of standup, since no one knows me here in LA' I explain.

'Don't worry about it Randy, you're very funny. Just try not to offend anyone with your Republican jokes' warns Lauren.

'I'll try not to' I say, laughing.

* * *

A/N: Sorry, I know it's a short chapter, but I didn't want to try to fit anything else into this one.

I want to thank Baxxie for helping me out with pretty much the entire chapter, even though she only gave me two different ideas.

Oh, and don't worry, you'll get to see some of Randy's comedy bits in later chapters. (And true to Lauren's words, I'll try not to offend anyone with the material. In fact, I'll put a disclaimer at the beginning of that chapter that there may be offensive material in there, that way no one can justifiably flame me if they read the material and don't like it).

Please read and review. I absolutely love reading fan feedback.

As always, thanks for reading.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	11. Chapter 11: Randy Does Los Angeles

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 11

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 11

A/N: This chapter takes place on the night of Randy's conversation with Lauren. All this one will contain is what takes place at the comedy club that night.

**NOTE: This is your warning. Some of the material in this chapter contains:**

**Mild language**

**Politics (namely Republican bashing) (Hey, I'm not Republican, so frankly, I don't give a duck's bill what anyone thinks)**

**You have been warned. If you are offended by anything in this chapter, please don't flame me. Because, chances are, I'll just flame you back.**

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor

* * *

Randy's POV

'So kid, are you ready to go out there?' asks the stage manager, Mo.

'Yeah, I guess. I'm nervous that I'll screw up or that I won't be funny or that I'll offend somebody or that-' I get cut off by Mo.

'You'll do fine. I'm sure Tim Allen was nervous the first time he did stand up, and look at him now!' Mo says.

Third Person POV

'Hi! So, how's everybody doing tonight?' Randy smiles as he comes on stage.

The audience greets him with mixed review.

"Mental note: Don't say that again" Randy thought to himself.

'So, it's 1998, which means of course next year we start the whole election process over again. Which means that we have to hear all of these Republicans with their Texas accents telling us that they won't raise taxes, or introduce new taxes, and telling us that they want to make ketchup a school vegetable. I mean, tomatoes are fruits to begin with, you know' says Randy, garnering huge laughter from the ketchup remark.

'You know how when you're in high school government classes the teachers practically bend over backwards to seem impartial, but the students always seem to figure out their political standings anyway? I mean, you sit around at lunch saying "oh, I think Turner is Republican because he said blah blah blah about Clinton" and "Smith must be Democrat because she's for this and against that and said yadda yadda yadda about Bush". I mean, the teachers try so hard, but everyone always figures it out anyways.' Randy says, once again causing the crowd to laugh.

'I just want to take this opportunity to let everyone know that I do have a manager, her name is Helen. So, if you don't like anything I say here tonight, then you can just go to Helen Waite' Randy remarks, managing to keep a straight face, which is much more than what can be said for the crowd. It took a few seconds for some people to understand it, but once people realized the pun, they started guffawing and laughing loudly.

'Anyways, why did the chicken cross the road?' Randy asks next.

His question was met with sighs and boos and shouts of "oh for crying out loud!" from the audience.

'To get away from all these damn "why did the chicken cross the road?" jokes' Randy says with a mock exasperated look on his face. The audience laughs, as they have been doing all night, at this parody of the famous joke.

'So one time a paper in a small town held a contest to see which of their readers could come up with the best pun. One man sent in ten different puns, sure that one of the ten would be a winner. Unfortunately for the man, no pun in ten did' Randy says. The audience laughs at this as well.

'Speaking of small towns, there was this farmer who had a really, really stubborn son. One time, he told his son "Son, I swear to God you are as stubborn as a mule". The boy just looked at his fathers and said "Dad, if I'm a mule, then that would mean that you're a jackass"' Randy says, continuing his routine quite nicely.

'Have you ever noticed how much you have to pay at a fancy restaurant? I mean, what is a fancy restaurant anyways? It's a place where your soup is cold, your salad is hot, your entrée still has most of its vital organs intact, your side dish is off the endangered species list, your dessert has been set on fire, and your wine is older than The Messiah. Just follow me now. If you want a fancy evening, then you'd better have taken out a second, third, and fourth mortgage on your house before you begin the evening. You get to the restaurant, you have to tip the man at the reservations desk, the waitress who seats you, the normal waitress who actually waits on you, and the chef. All in all, you're looking at about a hundred bucks there, because, after all, you don't want to be a frugal tipper. Then you wind up hitting a convenience store and buying sandwiches and chips so you can actually say you ate something, and chances are you have to tip the teenager who rings up the sandwiches and chips. Then you go to a hotel, and you tip the man at the front desk, even though he has done nothing to help you. Then you get on an elevator to go up to your room. Of course, you have to tip the elevator operator. And, remember, someone has to maintain the machines that run the elevator. So, you have to tip the operator of the operator of the elevator operator's elevator so the elevator operator can operate the elevator that he is the elevator operator of. Then, if that's not enough, if you go back to your hotel room and your wife gives you a blow job or has sex with you, you have to tip her!' Randy says, out of breath by the end. This bit causes the crowd to erupt with laughter, and they're giving him a standing ovation by the end of the routine.

'Well, I hope that everyone had a good time tonight. Unfortunately, I have to go now. But, I intend on being back here next Tuesday. See y'all then' Randy says, then walks off the stage.

"I'm so relieved that I wasn't booed off the stage. I'm glad everyone liked my jokes" Randy thinks to himself backstage.

'Hello' someone says to Randy after about 5 minutes.

'Hi" Randy says, sitting up in his chair from his slouched position.

'I saw the show tonight, and I just wanted to say I think you're pretty funny, and that you have a lot of potential to become a great comedian' the man says.

'Well thanks, I appreciate the compliment' Randy replies.

'Wait a second! You…this is going to sound real odd for me to say, but…you almost look like Jonathan Taylor Thomas' Randy says in shock.

'Actually, I am' replies the man.

'But, what would Jonathan Taylor Thomas want with me?" asks Randy.

* * *

A/N: Poor Randy, he doesn't know yet what Jonathan Taylor Thomas wants with him. And neither do you! I'm the only one who knows!

I want to take this opportunity to thank Baxxie for some advice you gave me a few chapters ago. I finally found a way to make it work!

Anyways, I hope this chapter wasn't too off the wall.

By the way, all the material in this chapter is mine; that I came up with on my own.

If you didn't get either of these punch lines:

_Unfortunately for the man, no pun in ten did_

and

_So, if you don't like anything I say here tonight, then you can just go to Helen Waite_

Then just say them out loud. Then they should make sense.

Please R&R, I want to know what people think of my jokes.

Thanks for reading.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor.


	12. Chapter 12: High Beams

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 12

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 12

Randy's POV

'But what would Jonathan Taylor Thomas want with me?' I ask.

'I'm working on a sitcom for ABC, and we're shooting the pilot next spring. However, we still don't have the lead character cast yet. So I've been scouting out local comedy clubs to see if anybody fits the bill. After a month and a half of looking, you're the only one I've seen so far who isn't a total dweeb for lack of a better term.

'Wow! You actually think I'd be good on TV? I haven't done any acting in, oh God, two and a half years or so. But I'm sure I would do okay' I say, still in shock that I'm actually standing here, talking to Jonathan Taylor Thomas.

'Now listen, you don't have the job yet, you still have to audition. But, don't worry too much, I think you'll do great' Jonathan warns.

'When are the auditions?' I ask.

'They're on the sixth of December. I'd say show up around…4 pm' answers Jonathan.

'Oh, and tell Helen Waite to stay home' Jonathan adds with a smile.

'Okay, I'll be there, and Helen will be at home' I say.

'Oh, hey, wait! Where are the auditions being held at?' I ask as he starts to walk away.

'They're being held at the ABC studios. Do you need directions?' he offers.

'Yeah, I've only lived here about a month' I reply.

'Do you have some paper?' Jonathan asks.

'No, but I think I saw some someplace back here. Yeah, over here on this card table' I say, walking over and grabbing a sheet.

'What about a pen? Sorry, I don't tend to keep office equipment on me when I scout comedy clubs' he asks again.

'That I do have' I respond, reaching in my shirt's pocket and pulling out a burgundy pen that the front office of the motel I was staying at gave me. Yes, they actually did give it to me, they just don't know it.

Jonathan then proceeds to sit down in the chair I occupied a few minutes ago, and immediately begins jotting down how to get there.

'These are directions of how to get there from this club. You should make it there in one piece as long as you follow these' Jonathan explains.

'I'll be sure to do that. I just want to know, is driving always going to be pure hell out here?' I smile.

'The truth? Yes. I've been driving here for two years, and sometimes these people still scare the living hell right out of me' he jokes. At least, I hope it's a joke.

'See you then' Jonathan says on his way out.

'Wow' I say to myself once he's out of earshot.

'What're you wowing about kid?' asks Mo.

'I just talked to Jonathan Taylor Thomas. He wants me to audition for a TV show he's executive producing' I say, still with a star struck look on my face.

'See, I told you you'd do fine out there' Mo says, not even the slightest bit shocked that Jonathan Taylor Thomas was here.

He notices the questioning look that I've thrown him.

'Kid, I've been working for this club for 38 years, and I've lived in Los Angeles for all 60 years of my life. After a while, you get used to the big stars around town' Mo explains.

I proceed to collect all of my belongings from my little "desk" area (my car keys that I had already taken out before Jonathan Taylor Thomas approached me and a bottle of Caffeine Free Diet Pepsi), and headed towards the doors.

Then I hear Mo call out 'Hey kid, I'll be looking for you on TV this next fall'.

I wave goodbye.

'I sure hope so' I mumble to myself on my way out of the door.

The fresh, semi-warm night air comes as a nice surprise after being in the stuffy club.

I walk straight out to the spot where I parked the Mustang.

Once inside, I change the radio station since the current was playing "25 or 6 to 4", which I absolutely hate. Of course, I don't like the band Chicago either.

Then I pull out of the parking lot, and find a gas station to stop at. (The car is practically running on empty).

I get out, get the gas, et cetera, et cetera, then get back in.

As I pull out, I notice this big pickup truck following me. It's probably just a coincidence.

I keep driving, and the pickup truck keeps following me, only now, every once in a while he'll put his headlights on high; and nearly blinds me whenever he does.

We keep this up for a while, and just to test the person driving the truck, I turn into a parking lot for a grocery store that is closed. The truck follows, and puts his high beams on once he's turned in there.

I pull out of the parking lot, and start going the direction in which we just came. Once again, the pickup truck follows, and once again, he flashes his damn high beams.

So I decide that it's best to just keep driving, after all, if the guy in the truck is some kind of creep/stalker/murderer/thief/et cetera, he can't get to me if I'm still in the car driving.

After about fifteen minutes, I'm making my way through a suburban neighborhood, pickup truck still in tow despite my best efforts of U-turns, backtracking, and odd routes.

Once again, he flashes his high beams, for what I decide will be the last time when I see a police car parked in a driveway. And, fortunately, I can see a police officer come walking out of the house just as I get to the driveway.

In what seems like one movement, I turn off the car, keep my keys in my hand, undo my seatbelt, and open the door.

As soon as the door is open, I shout to the confused looking police officer 'Arrest that man in the truck. He has been following me around for the past twenty five minutes, trying to blind me with the high beams on his truck!'

The man in the truck has stepped out now as well.

'Officer, it's not me that you want. It's him' the man says.

A/N: Sorry it's taken me a while yet again to update. (Well, maybe not _that_, long, but longer than what I intended for it to).

Please R&R if you want to know what the insane sounding man in the pickup truck is talking about. And if you know the tale that this is based off of, please don't mention it, otherwise you'll spoil it for others who don't know how the story goes.

Thanks for reading.

-Yours truly, Randy "Jonathan Taylor Thomas' New Found Friend" Taylor


	13. Chapter 13: Seeing Him is as Easy as ABC

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 13

Randy's POV

'Officer, it's not me that you want, it's him' the man in the truck said.

'What do you mean? What the hell are you talking about? I ask. Okay, maybe scream, as opposed to ask.

'Him, or her, in the back seat of your Mustang' the man in the truck responds.

At this, the officer, the truck driver, and I peer in the back of the Mustang.

Sure enough, crouched down behind the driver's seat is a human being, holding a rather large and sharp looking knife. I gulp when I realize what this man's intentions were.

'What's your name?' demands the still nameless (to me) officer.

'Clark Hall' answers the figure.

The officer then proceeds to place the man under arrest, handcuffs him, and (rather harshly, which is just jim dandy with me) places him in the back seat of the police cruiser.

'So, how did you know about the man in the back of my car?' I ask, perhaps a little more suspiciously than necessary.

'I saw the man crawl in there at the gas station, and you got in your car before I could warn you about him. So I decided the only thing to do was follow you' explains the man.

'And blind the crap out of me' I finish for the man.

'No, see, every time that man rose up to try to stab you, I put on my highbeams so he would crouch back down. See, I really wasn't trying to blind you' the man says.

'Well, thank you' I say to the man, standing by his truck, 'and thank you Officer...' I finish, directing this one towards the officer.

'Oh, I'm sorry. In all the confusion, I forgot to introduce my self. I'm Wilfred Wilson' the officer, Wilfred, introduces himself.

'Are you by chance related to Wilson Wilson?' I ask before I realize my error.

'Yes, he's my second cousin, once removed' Wilfred says, giving me a confused look.

'So, do you have a place to stay tonight?' asks Wilfred after a few awkward moments of glaring silence.

'Yeah, in downtown LA' I answer, gesturing with a thumb towards the general direction of my apartment.

'That's a little far off. Why don't you just stay here for the night, and then you can go back home tomorrow morning' offers Wilfred. I start to refuse, but then realize that he's not giving me a choice.

Dammit, I don't want Wilson to find out where I'm at then let it slip to mom.

'Sure' I say after taking a deep breath.

'So how do you know Cousin Wilson?' Wilfred asks once inside.

'I used to live next door to him. But, listen, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't tell him about me being here' I say, hoping Wilfred and his wife, Goldie, won't ask for more details. They don't, thank God.

'Well, I have to be getting to work now, but if you need anything, just let Goldie know, and she'll get it for you if we have it' Wilfred tells me.

'Okay' I say while watching Wilfred walk down the long elegant hallway that I walked through a few minutes earlier.

'Can I get you something to eat, or maybe a glass of water?' asks Goldie.

'Could I get an aspirin and a glass of water, if it's not too much trouble?' I ask, my tone sounding like that of a small child who has snuck out of bed and is asking for a glass of water. I hate to sound like that. Especially now a days when I ask something of someone. Maybe I should try practicing sounding more adult when I ask for pain medication and liquid sustenance.

'No problem. Now, Taylor' Goldie says, addressing me by my alias 'you can sleep in the master bedroom, and I'll take the couch'.

'Oh, I wouldn't want to put anyone out' I say.

'No, don't worry about it. The couch is kind of lumpy to sleep on, but it won't matter with me because I'm a deep sleeper' Goldie says. I can tell that it has already been decided that I will be sleeping in Goldie and Wilfred's bed, and Goldie will be sleeping on the couch.

* * *

Mark's POV

Boston is one _very _interesting city indeed.

Here, people don't "park" their "car", they "pahk" their "cah". I hope I'm not here long enough to start talking like that. I think I'll shoot my self if I ever do. Thank God Willie doesn't talk like that though.

Boston schools are quite interesting as well.

The other day,a teacher told everyone in the class to shut the hell up. (And honestly, he was the one making the most noise out of anyone, but did we tell him to shut the hell up?, no, we didn't).

Right now I'm sitting at home watching this fairly new show called Dharma and Greg. I wasn't too sure about it at first, but it's actually not half bad.

* * *

Jill's POV

What a horrible mother I am.

That is the one thought that refuses to leave my brain ever since the day I woke up and Mark and Randy were gone.

Oh sure, Wilson says that I'm not a bad mother, that I simply let the alcohol get the best of me. I think in this case though, I took a drink, the drink took a drink, then the entire Goddamn bottle took me.

I mean, yeah, so what, I've been sober for 34 days now. It still doesn't bring Randy and Mark back.

God, I know you're not all that big on making deals, but if you would just let me be able to find Mark and Randy some way, some how, I swear...well to you, that I'd be a much better mother than what I have been the past two years.

I've got to stop thinking about this, otherwise that'll be the next thing holding me captive in my own life. Maybe I'll look through the TV Guide and see if anything's on tonight.

Huh. This is interesting. There's an ad here for a new show coming next fall.

Apparently Jonathan Taylor Thomas is executive producing and starring in a new sitcom for ABC. All it says is "This yet to be titled sitcom is about two metrosexual friends who live in St. Louis, Missouri and their journeys through everyday life". I have no idea what the word "metrosexual" means, but it sounds interesting. I wish I could let Randy know about this. He always has been a huge Jonathan Taylor Thomas fan. (I think I'm the only one who never considered that to sound gay. I mean, I like Janis Joplin's music, does that make me gay?). He saw Tom and Huck nine times in theaters when it first came out.

* * *

A/N: First off, I'm sorry that it has taken me 16 days to update this story. I meant to update this on the 18th, and even went so far as to write the chapter. Then that same day, my laptop died before I could get the chapter uploaded on to . Then later on that evening, my grandmother passed away, so I haven't really had the time or desire to rewrite this chapter up until now. So, to whoever it is out there that is jinxing me, you can stop now, you **have **succeeded.

Now, before I am bombarded with dictionaries, yes, "metrosexual" is a real word. If it isn't, then tough, because I'm going to use it anyways. I actually picked that word up from reading an article by a now retired humor columnist, Dave Barry. It means: A young, heterosexual male, who dresses nicely, and is well groomed.

Please R&R if you want more of this story. (And I swear that I'll try to have it up sooner than what these past couple of chapters have been).

Thanks for reading, and once again, I apologize about the extremely long delay between updates.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	14. Chapter 14: Audition Day

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 14

A/N: This chapter takes place the day of Randy's audition at ABC.

* * *

Randy's POV

Oh God, I am so nervous about this audition.

Just a few days ago, I found out what this show is even about. Jonathan (yes, I relish having the ability to simply call him Jonathan) sent me a huge packet in the mail with a copy of the script for the pilot and with information about the show and the characters.

Apparently it takes place in St. Louis, Missouri (No! I thought it'd be St. Louis, New York), and is about two bachelors in their mid twenties and their day to day lives. If I do get the role, I'll have to be insistent that this is like the antichrist of Friends. (I can't stand that show).

Jonathan (Taylor Thomas) is one of the bachelors, and, assuming I get the role, I'd be the other.

Jonathan's character (named Jonathan) is the president of some bank that his father owned, and has to deal with a bunch of loonies (who just happen to be employees of the bank) and their problems all day. His father died from a heart attack three years ago, and that's when his son became president of the bank. His mother ran off with his father's divorced brother five years ago, and is living some place in upstate New York.

My (hopefully soon to be) character (who hasn't been named yet) is the vice president of the bank, and is the best friend, confidant, and right hand man of Jonathan's character. His mother died when she was in the process of giving birth to the character's younger brother (who is doing 20 to life for committing a murder). He hasn't seen or heard from his father since 1985.

Some of the actors and actresses who play the bank employees include: Jill Hennessey, Earl Hindman, Patricia Richardson, Sherry Stringfield and Tudi Roche. I'm particularly eager to work with Earl Hindman and Patricia Richardson. I mean, they both **really** know how to act!

I just still can't believe that all of this happening. I mean, even if this sitcom doesn't pan out, do you know how great it will/would look on my resume to have worked with Earl Hindman, Patricia Richardson, and Jonathan Taylor Thomas.

I even heard that Matt Williams and Carmen Finestra are two of the other executive producers for this show. I absolutely love the shows that they create and produce. (Like The Cosby Show and Roseanne).

I think this should be pretty popular. According to Jonathan, TV Guide is running ads for this show at the very least until it starts airing next September.

Right now I'm sitting in the waiting room in some big ABC office out here. There are still about three or four people ahead of me to audition. But, according to Jonathan (and I really hope he knows what he's talking about here) I have the advantage over anyone else that's auditioning.

* * *

Brad's POV

I must be the worst possible big brother on earth. It's been two months since Randy and Mark left, and I've only worried about them for a week and a half of those two months.

And I have to be honest, I wouldn't be worried about them right now if mom hadn't made me stop drinking.

Both of us just about wound up drinking our lives to hell in a hand basket. Mom had to quit school because she couldn't even make it there half the time since she was hung over so much. She's working at the library now and is like the head book check out person (or whatever you want to call them).

I've lost any hope of getting a soccer scholarship, going to college, getting a decent job, and I haven't had a girlfriend since February of 1997.

Not to mention the fact that in the past two years I've scared the living hell out of my two younger brothers, who, if anything, I should be protecting.

I have talked to Wilson quite a bit, and I think he knows where Mark and Randy decided to settle, but I haven't said anything to mom or Wilson about it. (And I don't plan on saying anything either).

I just wish that there was some way for mom and me to contact them. Just to say hi or send them a Christmas card or something.

* * *

Later That Day

Randy's POV

Oh my God! I'm so excited!

The audition was perfect! I nailed all the lines, and I impressed everyone in that room so much, that they told me right on the spot that I got the part!

I still cannot believe that I'm going to be working with Jonathan Taylor Thomas!

This means that next week, TV Guide is going to add my name to the list of stars. The real kicker is, it'll be listed right after Jonathan Taylor Thomas' name!

I'm so excited, I'm going to go call Lauren and Wilson!

* * *

A/N: So Randy got the part. Not like anybody ever saw that coming, huh?

I'll have Randy's conversations with Lauren and Wilson in the next chapter.

Please R&R.

As always, thanks for reading.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	15. Chapter 15: Call Me

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 15

Randy's POV

Who should I call first, Lauren or Wilson?

I guess I'll go with Lauren. (Since she _is _my girlfriend, albeit my long distance girlfriend).

I pick the phone up and dial the numbers for Lauren's home phone number. (She has her own line). But instead of hearing Lauren's voice, I hear an automated message playing. I hang the phone up, and pick it up again, and dial the numbers again, this time remembering the freaking area code.

'Hello' Lauren answers.

'Hi' I say, holding the phone away from my ears so as to avoid being deafened by the eruption of glee and joy on the other end of the line.

'Randy, how are you?' Lauren asks.

'Actually, I'm doing really good' I say, with the smile on my face quite obvious in my voice.

'Really? That's good. So I take it the new job is going well?' she asks, opening up precisely the door I wanted her to.

'Well, I have a new job. I'm going to be on a TV show with Jonathan Taylor Thomas next fall!' I explain.

'How did you get on TV?' Lauren asks, sounding a little unconvinced.

'Well, remember the last time we talked and I mentioned going to that comedy club?' I ask.

'Yeah...' she says, leading me on.

'Well, after I did my set, Jonathan Taylor Thomas came backstage and invited me to come to the auditions for this TV show' I tell her.

'Well, I'll definitely be watching it. In private, of course' Lauren says.

'But, enough about me, what's been going on with you?' I ask.

'Honestly? Not a whole lot. The biggest event to happen to me in the past week and a half is a snow day yesterday' she says.

'Oh yeah, snow...I think I remember that stuff. White and cold and fluffy, right?' I joke.

'Yeah, I'm sure you really did forget, Mr. California' she laughs.

'But seriously, I wish I could be with you out there. Especially now when there's literally fifteen inches of snow' Lauren adds.

'Well maybe someday if the TV series gets picked up, you can come out here. We can both just leave Michigan behind for good' I say, just imagining Lauren and I out here in California. Maybe we could start things off out here by taking a well deserved vacation to Cabo San Lucas (unless she'd get pissed at me for suggesting going there).

'I'd like that. I've always wanted to go to two places out there in California. Santa Monica and Cabo San Lucas' she says. My face lights up to hear that.

'I'd like to be the one to take you there' I say.

'But listen, Lauren, don' tell anyone about me being on TV. God only knows how pissed off mom would be if she knew where I was and what I was doing' I warn her.

'Randy, I really don't plan on sharing any of that information with anybody short of my eighty eight year old, almost deaf grandfather' Lauren says.

'Well, Randy, I have to go. My mom just got home and she doesn't look too happy about something' she says.

'Bye' I mean to say. Instead 'I love you' pops out.

'I love you too' Lauren says. It sounds unintentionally intentional as well.

'Bye' I say for real this time.

'Bye bye' she says.

After we both hang up, I just sit there for a minute, still caught up in the emotional rush that the end of mine and Lauren's conversation gave me.

Then I remember that I was going to call Wilson too.

I dial Wilson's phone number, this time remembering the area code on the first try.

'Heidi ho unidentified user of the typically tacky toned, tongue-twisting telephone' Wilsons answers. Hasn't this guy ever heard of "hello" before?

'Hi Wilson, it's me, Randy' I greet.

'Well Randy...What have you been up to?' Wilson asks.

'Oh, you wouldn't believe it. A couple of weeks ago, I went to amateurs night at a comedy club and after I-' I begin to say, but then I get cut short by Wilson.

'And Jonathan Taylor Thomas was there and invited you to audition for his new TV show on ABC' Wilson finishes perfectly for me.

'How did you know?' I ask, in utter shock.

'Oh, Jonathan mentioned that to me the other day. See, I'm an old family friend on his mother's side' Wilson says.

'Wilson, please tell me why I'm not surprised that you are a close, personal friend of **THE** Jonathan Taylor Thomas!' I demand. He just laughs at this.

'So, I take it that you've found a permanent place to stay out there?' Wilson asks, with a trace of disappointment in his voice.

'Yeah, I found a relatively cheap, relatively good sized apartment' I answer.

'Speaking of cheap, what will you be doing for income until the show starts?' Wilson inquires. If other people asked this, it would be considered prying, but with Wilson, it's just him being concerned. He's always been like a second father to me. And definitely a mature male role model for me. (Notice I say _mature_).

'Well, I still have that job with the day care that you helped me get' I remind him.

I can hear a beeping noise in the background now.

'I'm so sorry, but that sound means my asparagus and grasshopper stew is ready. Yum!' Wilson explains.

'Okay. Well, I'll talk to you sometime soon hopefully' I say.

'Bye bye' Wilson says.

A/N: Okay, yeah, I know, not much happened here, but it's still a necessary chapter. (You'll figure out why in a few chapters).

Please R&R, especially since we're getting close to the end of this story. (Probably within anywhere from about four to six chapters).

Thanks for reading.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	16. Chapter 16: Life and Stuff

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 16

A/N: Okay, it's time once again in this story to hop into our DeLoreans and get them accelerated up to 88 miles per hour. For those who are thinking I'm a few bricks shy of a load, the last sentence was a reference to the Back to the Future trilogy. In other words, we're going to time travel to the evening of the debut of Randy and Jonathan's show, titled "Life and Stuff". Please enjoy.

* * *

Jill's POV

I walk outside to take the trash out.

'Heidi ho neighborette' he greets.

'Hi Wilson' I say.

'Is something the matter?' he asks when he hears how depressed I sound.

'Yeah. There's this new TV show airing tonight starring Jonathan Taylor Thomas. I'm not really sure if I want to watch it or not. I'm afraid watching Jonathan Taylor Thomas acting will bring back memories of Randy and that'll make me remember that Randy's been gone for almost a year now and I'm just not sure if it's all worth it Wilson. I might feel a little better if I could let Randy know that it was airing tonight, but I know that's not possible' I explain.

'Oh, I wouldn't worry about Randy not watching it. After all, he's in the sh-' Wilson starts to say something.

'He's in the what?' I ask.

'He's in...one of those Jonathan Taylor Thomas fan clubs, you know. I'm sure they've sent out something about it to everybody' he says. Hmm. Somehow I doubt that that's why he knows about tonight's show.

'Well, thanks for stopping by' Wilson ends our conversation abruptly.

'Yeah. Thank you too' I mumble after Wilson's gone inside his house.

Now I know what I'm doing tonight come hell or high water.

* * *

Mark's POV

'I know the Red Sox are on tonight Willie, but could we watch this new show on ABC instead?' I ask Willie.

'I suppose so. What's it about?' he asks.

'It's about the president and vice president of a bank and their daily adventures' I say. I'm not going to mention the fact that Jonathan Taylor Thomas is the star and an executive producer since Willie is one of those (wrong!) people who think that Jonathan Taylor Thomas is gay.

'Sounds interesting. What time does it air?' Willie asks.

'It's on at 9:30' I answer.

'Hmm. Well that'll be fine. We can still watch part of the Red Sox game, then just switch it over to ABC at 9:30' Willie says, devising his (our) TV plans for the evening.

I just wonder if Randy knows about this show. He's always been one of the biggest Jonathan Taylor Thomas fans. Brad always thought that Randy was gay for liking Jonathan, and to tell the truth, I kinda thought that too. (Although I never did say anything).

* * *

Lauren's POV

God, this is going to be so exciting to see Randy on TV, let alone acting right along side Jonathan Taylor Thomas.

Nobody that I know personally has ever been on TV. This is a huge milestone in my life.

Listen to me, this is a huge milestone in _Randy's _life, not mine.

Of course I've made sure to keep this a secret from everyone from my closest friend to the Easter bunny.

I told my parents that I have a ton of homework to do (which I do) and that it's really hard (which it is) and I have to be able to concentrate on it without any kind of interruption. Luckily, my room is on the third floor of the house, and the den, which is where the main TV is, is on the first floor.

My younger sister is in bed with an ear infection, so I don't have to worry about her seeing or hearing anything. My older sister is going bowling tonight, so hopefully she won't catch on either.

* * *

Randy's POV

I can't believe it! September 30 is finally here, which means that in exactly nine minutes and seven seconds, the first ever episode of "Life and Stuff" airs.

* * *

A/N: Sorry, you all have to wait until next time to see what happens with everyone.

I want to thank Baxxie for giving me the idea of having Wilson let it slip that Randy is in the TV show.

Please R&R if you want to know what everyone's reaction is.

Thanks for reading.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	17. Chapter 17: Oh My God!

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 17

Mark's POV

'Come on Willie, that show's about to start' I yell from the living room.

I really hope this is a good show for Jonathan's sake, since that other show sent his character over to Costa Rica and then didn't even bring him back for the series finale.

The opening is starting now. I like the theme music. Sounds really jazzy.

'Oh my God!' I shout out loud without realizing it.

'What's the matter?' asks Willie.

'It's Randy! Randy is in the credits!' I shout.

'Randy...Randy...You're brother Randy?' he asks.

'Yes, oh my God! What is he doing on a TV show?' I ask to no one in particular.

'Well that must mean he's out there in California then' Willie states.

'Yeah, it must...' I agree.

This is just typical Randy. Something tragic happens to him, and he goes on to actually _improve_ his life.

Now I really hope this show is a success, both for Randy and Jonathan's sake.

* * *

Lauren's POV

"Life and Stuff" has a really neat theme, though they could have probably gotten away with less trumpet. But, I'm not tuning in as a music critic.

This is just so cool to see Randy up there acting on the same stage with THE Jonathan Taylor Thomas. They're both radiantly cute if you ask me.

Then about ten minutes into the show, I hear a knock on my door. I mute the TV, and start to ask "who is it?" when my mom (who is famous for knocking on a door, but then not waiting for anyone to give her clearance to enter) comes walking in, carrying a stack of clothes with her. Before I have a chance to turn off the TV, or at the very least change the channel, she looks over at the TV, right in the middle of a close up of Randy.

'Yeah mom?' I ask, trying to play dumb.

'Lauren, what are you watching?' she asks, still staring at the TV.

'Well, see, one of my friends called me while I was doing my homework, and told me about this new show debuting on ABC tonight, and said that I really should watch some of it' I lie.

'And would that friend just happen to be that Randy Taylor kid who ran away a year ago?' she asks.

'Um...' is all I can manage to say.

'I've already seen the TV screen Lauren, so lying is rather pointless at this point in time' mom says.

'I can't say mom' I tell her. There's no way I'm giving up Randy, not without a fight.

'Lauren, I'm going to call Mrs. Taylor whether or not you tell me if Randy called' she explains.

'I'm not going to say, and I really, really mean it' I state.

'Alright. I'll be back up here in a few minutes to discuss this with you further. Right now, I think Mrs. Taylor needs to find out where her sons are at' mom says.

'I'm sorry I let you down Randy. But, I didn't actually tell her anything, if it makes you feel any better' I whisper after mom leaves the room, first unloading the clothes on top of my desk chair.

I guess it was only a matter of time before our charade would be found out, but still, I thought it would last longer than what it did.

Now all I can do is wait. Wait until something happens. Wait until I hear something from Randy.

God, I just feel so horrible for ruining Randy's new life.

* * *

Wilson's POV

I hope Jill didn't notice my little screw up earlier this evening, though I'm almost one hundred percent positive that she did. She's much too smart to not notice.

Well, either way, there's still hope that Randy won't be found out. If he is, I'll have some real explaining to do, both to Randy and to Jill.

Maybe if the series is a success, Jill will allow Randy to keep acting in it.

Randy is such a natural when it comes to acting. He reminds me of Jonathan Taylor Thomas, and in more ways than one. They almost look like their the same person, or at the very least twins, when you see them right next to each other.

This is interesting, you can't see Earl Hindman's face in this show either. Maybe that's one of his contract demands now adays.

* * *

Randy's POV

The most horrible thought in the whole wide world just occurred to me. Doing this TV series means people in Detroit (other than Lauren and Wilson) could see me and know where I'm at. But, then again, who's going to find out? Mom doesn't really watch that much network television except for Law and Order and ER (and she used to watch that one show with Jonathan Taylor Thomas in it, and Tim Allen was on there, grunting like a baboon), and nobody else I know would really be watching except maybe Heidi. I don't know what I'm really worried about.

I mean, besides, I'm using the name "Weiss" instead of "Taylor", and I do look a little different than what I did back in Detroit.

Wow. I still can't believe it. Not only the fact that I'm doing a TV show with some of my favorite actors and actresses, but just how far I've come in a not quite a year.

It still seems like yesterday that mom was picking Brad and Mark and me up from school, the four of us rushing off to the hospital where dad was having emergency surgery performed. The odd thing about that day is, Tim Allen was actually in the audience of Tool Time. Dad was so excited about that. Tim was thinking of buying some stock in Binford tools, and wanted to see Tool Time before he made a decision.

But, enough of that. I haven't thought of anything or body back in Detroit that much for a long time, and I don't think I want to start now. Besides, I need to be enjoying seeing myself on TV in case the series doesn't get picked up. (Even though I _am _taping this). I probably will give Lauren a call after the show is over.

It's funny, on camera, and I guess even in person, Jonathan and I are practically interchangeable. I've even got the two of us mixed up right now. Oh well, I guess that's what I guess for not paying attention.

* * *

Jill's POV

The moment of truth is about to come. Is Randy on this TV show or not?

Alright, the theme is starting up, and now they're getting ready to show the cast.

'There he is!' I shout, even though no one's around to hear. Randy is in the credits! He's using the name Randy Weiss, but I know for a fact that that's him! Oh my God! How did he get on a TV show? He's only 17!

About half way into the show, the ringing of the telephone snaps me out of the trance Jonathan Taylor Thomas and Randy had me under.

I walk over to the phone, never removing my eyes from the TV screen for fear of losing Randy yet again.

'Hello' I answer, still watching the screen.

'Hi Jill, this is Julie, Lauren's mother' the person on the other end of the line says.

'Hi Julie, what's going on?' I ask. I haven't spoke with her since the day Randy and Mark left.

'Well, Lauren was watching TV up in her room when I walked in to put some clothes her away, and you'll never guess what I saw on TV' Julie explains.

'My son Randy, acting on the same show as Jonathan Taylor Thomas' I answer.

'How did you know?' Julie asks.

'I'm watching it too. My neighbor kind of let it slip that he knew that Randy would be on this show' I explain.

'I just thought I'd let you know' Julie says, and starts to hang up.

'Hey, Julie, would you put Lauren on the phone for a moment please?' I ask.

'Sure thing. Just a second' she says. Then I can hear her yell for Lauren to come down.

'Hello' Lauren says after a minute of waiting.

'Hi Lauren, this is Mrs. Taylor. I just want to know one thing from you. Where is Randy?' I ask.

'So my mom did tell you?' she asks.

'No, I was watching the show anyways. Now listen, I'm going to find out one way or another where Randy is, so you might as well tell me' I explain.

'If I tell you, I want to go with you when you go see him. I'm assuming of course that you'll go to get him and bring him back home' Lauren negotiates.

'I'll talk to your mother about that. Now, tell me where he and Mark are' I say.

'Randy is in Los Angeles. I have no idea about Mark, but I know Mark isn't with Randy. But listen, Mrs. Taylor, if I don't get to go with you, please tell Randy you didn't find this out from me' Lauren says.

'Okay. Thank you for your help. Let me talk to your mom again, and I'll see if I can convince here to let you go out to Los Angeles' I tell her.

'Hello' Julie says, back on the line again.

'Well, Lauren told me where Randy is, but she had one condition' I tell Julie.

'Yes, she can. I was only about ten feet away from Lauren the entire time of your all's conversation. So, when will you be leaving?' Julie says.

'I don't know. My plan is to buy tickets to be part of the studio audience for a show, and then to confront Randy backstage after the show. I'll give you a call when I figure out when I'll be leaving and all of that' I explain.

'Okay. I'll be expecting to hear from you' Julie says.

After that we hang up.

'Hey Brad, stay down here for a minute please' I say to him as he walks in the door.

'What's up?' he asks.

'I know where Randy is. He's out in Los Angeles filming a TV show with Jonathan Taylor Thomas. You, Lauren, and I are going to fly out there as soon as I can tickets to a taping of the show' I say all in one breath.

'I need to go over and talk to Wilson and let him know what's going on, and maybe see if I can find out where Mark is' I say.

'You mean Mark isn't with him?' Brad asks.

* * *

Brad's POV

Well, I guess we're half way there now that mom knows where Randy is. I am shocked that Mark isn't with him.

God, I just feel so horrible. I'm the reason that they left. Maybe they would've stayed if I hadn't beat the crap out of them on a bi-weekly basis for a year and a half.

I am kind of curious about this TV show that Randy is doing with Jonathan Taylor Thomas. I wonder what it's about.

I know I used to give him a real hard time about liking Jonathan Taylor Thomas fan. Sometimes I even said that he was gay for it (which I no longer believe is true).

Well, if Randy would just come back home, I wouldn't give him a hard time ever again. Well, almost ever again. You have to keep a few routines.

* * *

Jonathan Taylor Thomas' POV

I think Life and Stuff really has some potential. I don't by any means think it'll run for ten or fifteen seasons, but it should have a nice, long, enjoyable run. Maybe I'll actually get to be in the last season of this show.

I wonder if Wilson was watching. I know he didn't used to have a TV, but I think he does now. If not, I'll just play the tape for him next time he comes out to LA.

I'll have to ask Randy tomorrow what he thinks of seeing himself on TV. The first couple of times, you think "Oh my God, do I actually look like that?" It is kind of blood chilling to see your self and your name on a TV or movie theater screen.

* * *

A/N: Sorry, I know it's a long chapter, but once I started writing some of these (i.e. Jill and Lauren's POV) I just couldn't stop.

I do want to say that there is one line in from Randy's POV that is going to change this entire story in a couple of chapters. I won't say which line it is though. That is for you to figure out.

R&R to find out what line I'm talking about.

Thanks for reading.

-Yours truly, Randy Weiss/Taylor


	18. Chapter 18: Knockin' On Heidi's Door

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 18

Jill's POV

It's been three days now since I saw Life and Stuff. In that time, I bought tickets to the next taping, airline tickets for Brad, Lauren, and I, and probably one of the most horrid outfits ever invented. (The outfit is so if by some chance, Randy sees me, he hopefully won't know it's me).

Right now, I'm driving to the airport. I told Wilson that Brad and I are going to visit my mom. He said he'd be out of town, but didn't say where he was going.

I've been thinking about how I'm going to go about approaching Randy and what I'd say to him. I did decide to type (not write) him a fan letter, and ask for him to meet me backstage after the show. If that doesn't work, then I'm going to look him up in the phone book. If that doesn't work, then I'm searching every damn residence in Southern California for him.

I guess I'll just admit to Randy that I made a mistake and ask him to forgive me. I don't know what we'll do if the series gets picked up. Who knows, we might decide to move to California. It's not like Brad and I really have anything left in Detroit except for heart wrenching memories.

* * *

Later That Day in Los Angeles

Jill's POV

The plane just landed at LAX a few minutes ago. It would've been about five minutes sooner, but they had runway problems, so we couldn't get clearance to land. It seems like that always happens to airplanes I'm on. Maybe I'm bad luck.

After we pick up our luggage and do all the other typical post-flight things, Brad, Lauren, and I head to the motel I made reservations at. About halfway there, my cellphone begins ringing.

'Hello' I answer, trying to keep my focus on this damn LA traffic.

'Hi Jill, it's Heidi. Where are you at right now?' Heidi asks.

'I'm in Los Angeles, trying to find Randy' I tell her.

'I don't know how to put this Jill, but there's something in Detroit that you need to see as soon as possible. It really isn't something that you should hear over the phone' she explains.

'Uh...Okay, I should be back to Detroit in about three or four days. I'll just stop by your house then, if that's alright' I say, perplexed as to what could possibly be left in Detroit for me.

'Yeah. I'll see you then' Heidi says.

'Bye' I say half heartedly as I pull into the motel parking lot in the rented sedan.

'Who was on the phone?' Brad asks.

'It was Heidi. She said that there's something in Detroit we really need to see. We'll stop by her house once we get back to Detroit' I explain.

* * *

Earlier That Day Back in Detroit

Heidi's POV

'Could you get the door please?' Scott shouts from the kitchen. He's working on the sink right now. Something with the flange.

I peek out the window to see who's at the door, and nearly have a heart attack.

* * *

Jill's POV

Oh my God. I can't even move. I'm in the studio right now, waiting for the shooting of the next episode of Life and Stuff, and who just happens to be here, sitting further down in the audience? None other than Wilson Wilson, as in Wilson Wilson my next door neighbor.

Well, maybe he won't see us. I just want to know what he's doing here.

* * *

After the Show

Jill's POV

'I'm looking for Randy Weiss. I'm a relative of his, and would really like to speak with him' I explain to the security guard whose hulking presence halted me in my tracks on the way backstage. I told Lauren and Brad to wait out of sight, so that way if I couldn't get in, we could at least give it a shot with Lauren.

'Yes. It's the third doorway on the left, then just look for his dressing room on the right side of the hallway' the security guard says. These are magic words for Lauren and Brad, who were immediately hot on my heels. When the guard stops them, they just point to me, and he lets them pass. I take the guard's instructions, three doors down on the left side, and I immediately snap my head to the right, looking for the name Weiss.

I finally find the door I'm looking for, located right next to Jonathan Taylor Thomas' room. I knock on the door, and wait. It's only a few seconds, but seems like a few thousand eternities before the door opens.

* * *

A/N: Yes, I'm going to be Mean Mr. Author, and make everyone wait until next chapter to see what happens. What can I say, I love cliffhangers. (Both when I'm the one in suspense, and when I'm the one keeping people in suspense).

I think most of you out there in readerland know who's at the door of the Keppert residence. If you don't, then give me one hundred dollars and I'll give you one dollar and we can call it a good deal. ;)

Please R&R if you want me to finish this story.

Thanks for reading, and thanks in advance for reviewing. (And the hundred bucks!)

-Yours truly, Randy Weiss/Taylor


	19. Chapter 19: You Don't Know Anything!

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 19

Randy's POV

It's only about ten minutes after we finished taping the sixth episode of Life and Stuff, when there's a knock on my dressing room door. I just figured it was Jonathan, or maybe another one of the producers. I mean, after all, who else would it be?

When I open the door and see the people waiting outside, my heart skips about three or four beats. Then it begins pounding at a hundred miles a minute.

Jill's POV

When Randy opens the door, a look of pure terror washes over his face. He looks like a little kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Randy's POV

I can't believe that mom and Brad and Lauren are here. How did mom find out? Surely Lauren didn't tell her.

'Hello' I say, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

'Randy what the hell is the matter with you?' mom snaps.

'If you're going to yell at me, could you at least do it inside my dressing room, and not out here in front of my co-workers?' I ask, motioning towards the inside of the dressing room. After I make that request, mom, then Brad, and then Lauren all go filing into the previously spacey dressing room like three soldiers.

Once I have everyone inside, sat down, and comfortable, I hear another knock at the door. I excuse myself so I can answer it.

'Randy, you need to come with me quick' Wilson says through the small crack I left open in the door.

'Why's that?' I ask.

'Your mother and brother and girlfriend are all on their way out here to come and take you home' Wilson tells me. Now I'm standing outside the room.

'You're a tad late for that Wilson' I say, kicking back the partially opened door to reveal mom, Brad, and Lauren sitting in the dressing room.

'Yeah, you know, he's right. Wilson, you might as well just come on in, I think you need to be a part of this discussion too, since it appears you've played a part in this whole thing' mom says. He does as she says.

'So Randy, what's going on here? You can start at the beginning' mom asks.

'Well, about a year ago Brad, in one of his typical drunken rages, broke four of my ribs. That night, after _Wilson_ here to took me to the emergency room, I left. I took the Mustang, and just kept driving until I decided where I wanted to go' I explained.

'And then what happened? How did Lauren and Wilson find out you was out here? How did you get a TV show?' mom demands.

'I called Lauren and Wilson my first night out here. After I'd been here a couple of months, I tried my hand at an amateur stand up night at a comedy club. Jonathan Taylor Thomas was there scouting out the comedians, and asked me to audition for the show then. I did, and won the part' I explain.

'And then you hopped right on the phone and told Wilson the good news, which actually turned out to be your undoing right there' mom guesses. I just look at Wilson questioningly.

'Well, your half correct Jill. Jonathan was actually the one who told me about the show and about Randy being on there. But yes Randy, I did let it slip that you was on Life and Stuff' Wilson says.

'I just have one more question. Where is Mark? Didn't he leave with you?' mom asks.

'He left the night that I left, but I...' I pause, trying to think of a way to not make Wilson look too guilty.

'I entrusted Mark in the care of one my oldest friends. I don't, however, know where he is. The last time I heard from Mark or Willie, they were stopped at a gas station in Kentucky. Most likely they're in Boston. That's where Willie used to live' Wilson says, stepping in to save me from having to squeal.

'So then go call him and find out where he is! I know my drinking and Brad's drinking got bad, but you could have said something to me! You didn't have to just up and leave!' mom shouts.

'I tried to talk to you about the drinking countless times! But you were too fucking drunk to even give a damn that Mark and I were physically and emotionally hurt! I was going to try to stick it out until I graduated high school, but I finally figured out that I might not survive to finish school!' I yell, louder than anyone has yet. Mom bursts out in tears when she hears what I have to say.

'I know that you're hurting, and believe it or not Randy, I do care' mom sobs.

'No you don't know. You don't know the half of it. You don't know what it's like to not have anyone that cares about you except for your teenage brother. You don't know what the hell it is like to lie awake at night, thinking how great it would be to just end everything. All the pain and suffering. You don't know what it's like to sit there day in and day out, just wishing that you could hurry up and die so you could improve your life!' I scream at the top of my lungs. Mom starts crying even more.

'Randy, don't you think you're being a little harsh on her?' Lauren asks, speaking for the first time.

'No. She deserves to feel the way she feels right now. After everything that she and Brad put Mark and I through, she deserves much much more than this' I answer Lauren.

I start to say more, but then I hear a knock on the door. I go over to answer it, and see that it's Jonathan.

'Hi, I hope I'm not interrupting anything. I just wanted to make sure everything is alright. I heard an awful lot of noise coming from over here' Jonathan says.

'No, we're just having a family discussion' I answer, hoping Jonathan will just go away. Unfortunately, he stays put.

'Doesn't your family live in Michigan?' Jonathan asks.

'We do. We're out here to come and take him home. See, he's only 17' mom says.

'Jonathan, this is my mom, that's one of my brothers, Brad, right there to her right, and to her left is my girlfriend Lauren. And of course, you already know Wilson' I introduce Jonathan to everyone.

'If I could just step in and say something real quick. If it changes anyone's mind, I did just find out that ABC is ordering up three more seasons of this show. I guess I'll just leave now, and let you all have your family discussion' Jonathan says before disappearing back into the hallway.

'Wow, that's fantastic!' Lauren congratulates me. Mom shoots her a look that says "Shut Up!".

'Wilson, why don't you give me that phone number, and I'll call and find out where Mark is' mom suggests/orders after Jonathan leaves.

I must say, things are not looking good. I can't believe that I'm going to have to go back to Michigan now. I don't know if I will. I mean, I do turn eighteen this February.

* * *

A/N: So now Jill is about to find out where Mark is.

It may seem like it's practically over, but I still have one last trick up my sleeve.

Please R&R.

As always, thanks for doing so.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	20. Chapter 20: Not a Snowball's Chance

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 20

"Not a Snowball's Chance"

Mark's POV

'Mark, could you answer the phone please?' Willie asks from the patio. I get up from the couch, and pick the phone up.

'Hello' I answer.

'Is that you Mark?' mom asks. When I hear mom's voice, I drop the phone into the sink. How did she find out where I am? Does this mean she knows where Randy is too? She must have seen Randy's TV show.

'Yes' I say, cursing myself for telling the truth. (Not like I had a snowball's chance in hell of being able to convince her that I'm not Mark).

'Where are you at right now Mark?' she asks.

'Have you already found Randy?' I ask, ignoring her question.

'Yes, I'm in Los Angeles, in his dressing room right now' mom says.

'I don't believe you. Let me talk to him' I say.

'After you tell me where you're at' mom answers.

'Alright, alright. I'm in Massachusetts' I answer, hoping this will work for her.

'Okay, I'll give Randy the phone now, but I'm not finished talking to you yet' warns mom.

'Hey Mark' Randy says, sounding less than thrilled.

'So mom really did find you?' I ask.

'Yes. I don't know how everything is going to play out yet, but I'll see what I can do. What's your phone number, so I can call you when I figure something out?' Randy says.

'555-9423. Randy, please don't tell me that we have to go back home. I don't think anything could ever be the same if we did' I plead.

'Mark, things haven't been the same for this family ever since the day dad got hurt. Listen, I've got to go now, mom wants the phone back. Don't worry, we'll figure it all out' Randy says.

'Where's that man you're staying with? I want to talk to him' mom says, back on the phone.

'Just a second' I tell her.

'Willie! There's someone on the phone who needs to talk to you' I shout out to the patio. Willie gets up from the chair he was sitting in, and comes in.

'Who is it?' he asks.

'It's...it's my mom' I say, pausing because I can't believe what's going on. Willie inhales a deep breath, and takes the phone from my hands.

'Hello Mrs. Taylor'. Pause. 'Yes, I have been'. Pause. 'I am'. Pause. 'Boston, Massachusetts'. Pause. 'Whenever you want to'. Pause. 'We'll be here'. Pause. 'Alright'. Pause. 'Yes, I'll tell him'. Is how the conversation between Willie and mom goes.

'Mark, you're mom says she'll be out here with your brothers in about a week to get you. I'm afraid your time in Boston is just about up. I'm sorry this whole thing didn't work out for you and Randy' Willie says after a couple of minutes.

'Don't be sorry, it isn't your fault. Besides, I don't know why I even really thought that this would work. I mean, it just sounds absolutely ridiculous' I say.

'Don't beat yourself up over this. You and Randy did what you all had to do, and from what Wilson says, it sounds like you and your brother got the point across' Willie tells me.

* * *

Someone's POV

'No, I have no idea who you are. I don't even know who I am' I tell the persistent woman.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the short chapter, but I don't want to go any further, otherwise I'd have a super long chapter, and then the story would end sooner than I want it to, and sooner than I'm sure you want it to.

Anyways, please R&R.

Thanks for reading.

Oh, and by the way, the reason I'm updating all my stories today is because I have to have yet another surgery done on my nose. This is supposed to be the final one though.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	21. Chapter 21: Beware Falling Clocks

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 21

"Beware Falling Clocks"

Randy's POV

Right now, mom, Brad, Lauren, Wilson, and I are on a plane, flying back to Detroit. I didn't want to leave Los Angeles, mainly because I'll wind up missing two or three episodes of Life and Stuff, but Jonathan told me to go ahead and go, and come back whenever I can.

Once we get to Detroit, we're going to stop by Heidi's house to see what it is that she was talking about on the phone. Then I guess we'll be flying to Boston to get Mark and bring him back home.

I just feel so horrible that none of this worked out. All because I had to go to amateur's night at that stupid comedy club. If I hadn't done that, I could be working at a daycare right now, and mom and Brad could still be on the highway to hell. And Mark... He's the one I feel sorry for the most here. When it comes down to it, I don't mind going back my self, but I hate to think that Mark has to come back to Detroit now too, all thanks to me. He must really hate me right now.

* * *

Later That Day at the Keppert Residence

Heidi's POV

'Scott, do we have any batteries for this clock?' I ask. Right now I'm trying to get the pendulum on our miniature grandfather clock swinging again.

'Yeah, I think so. Let me check' he says, getting up from the couch. When he does that, our "guest" for the moment gets up, and stands right next to the ladder.

After a minute or so, Scott comes back into the living room with the batteries. I set the clock down on the top rung of the ladder, and get the batteries in with no hassle whatsoever.

Then when I try to hang the clock on the wall, it slips down off the wall, and...should've come crashing down onto the parquet floors of the living room. But instead, all I hear is a dull thud. I look down to see him lying there on the ground, not moving a muscle.

Scott runs to the kitchen and grabs the ice pack, which I put on his head.

'Should I call 9-1-1?' Scott asks.

'Maybe. Let's give it a couple more minutes. If he doesn't move, then go ahead and call' I say.

Then suddenly, he comes to.

'What are you doing Heidi?' he asks.

'You know who I am?' I ask.

'Of course I know who you are. I hired you, didn't I? Now, what am I doing at your house? Aren't we still in the middle of a Tool Time episode?' Tim responds.

'Tim, Tool Time hasn't been on the air for over three years now. Do you remember anything from the last Tool Time?' I ask.

'I remember Tim Allen was there in the audience, since he was debating on buying Binford Tools. I remember that something hit me really hard, and then the next memory I have is being here with the ice pack on my head' Tim says.

'The roof collapsed. Al was electrocuted when the lights came crashing down, and most of the audience was killed. We thought you had been killed too' I explain.

'But I'm alive' Tim says.

'You must have somehow made it out of all the debris, then wandered the streets for the next three years' I say.

'Do Jill and the boys know I'm here? What about my mom and brothers?' Tim asks.

'Your brothers are all flying in to come see you. Jill and the boys is a long, long story' I say.

'Oh God. Why didn't you say anything about my mom? Oh God, please don't tell me she passed away' Tim says. When I nod my head, he starts up saying "Oh God" again.

'When?' he asks.

'About eight months ago' I answer.

'What about Jill and Brad and Randy and Mark? Let's see, Jill must be a psychologist by now, Brad should be in college, Randy would be a senior in high school, and Mark...God, Mark is a freshman in high school' Tim guesses.

'That's not quite how things went Tim' I say. Then I proceed to tell him all about Jill and Brad's drinking, and how Mark and Randy ran away, and where Jill was going and everything. I regret even trying to go into this much detail almost immediately, since Tim isn't really digesting this information all that well.

* * *

Jill's POV

'Okay, Heidi's house should be along here somewhere. Oh, there, I see it' I say. The whole family is back in Detroit now. Well, almost the whole family. We have yet to go and get Mark.

I pull up into the driveway, and Brad, Randy, and I all get out of the car as fast as possible. All three of us are still confused as to what could be going on here.

We walk onto the porch, and ring the door bell. Scott answers, and invites us in.

* * *

A/N: Sorry, I'm leaving it right there for now. You'll just have to R&R to find out what everyone's reaction is. I'm thinking I'll be able to write about three more chapters, which is more than what I promised about six chapters ago, but I don't think anyone is going to complain about getting more chapters :P

I do have to give credit to the show ER for giving me the idea of having Tim get hit on the head with the clock.

Thanks for reading.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	22. Chapter 22: Reunion

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 22

"Reunion"

Jill's POV

When we walk into the living room, I almost have a heart attack when I see Tim sitting on the couch.

'Wh-What's going on?' I stammer.

'A couple of days ago, Tim rang our doorbell. He was seeking shelter from the blizzard we was having at the time. He didn't know who he was at the time, but then he got hit on the head with a clock, and when he came to his memory was back' Heidi explains.

'I'm so happy you're alive' I say through tears, sitting down next to Tim now. We embrace each other in a hug that seems to last forever.

'So I take it that you haven't gone to Boston to get Mark yet' Tim says after a couple of minutes. I close my eyes for a second, open them, see the look on Tim's face, scan the room for something to rest my eyes on so I don't have to look at Tim's face, and finally settle on Heidi.

'I'm sorry Jill, looking back on it now, it wasn't my place to tell him about everything, but he asked about you and the boys so…' Heidi apologizes.

'No…He needed to know. He deserved to find out, whether it be from me or you' I say slowly.

'I must sound like a real tramp right now, huh?' I ask Tim after a moment, forgetting Brad and Randy are here to hear this all. I don't know, maybe they kind of do need to hear this.

'No. No, I didn't marry a tramp. Heidi told me about your drinking, and Brad's violence, but she also mentioned how you stopped when you realized what was happening. I feel so guilty, so very very guilty for having caused all this. Yours and Brad's drinking, Randy and Mark's pain, having Randy and Mark on two opposite ends of the country, everything' Tim says.

* * *

Brad's POV

I can't believe after everything that's happened, after all the pain, suffering, and rage I felt that caused me to become a…an alcoholic prick for lack of a better term, dad is alive.

Dad doesn't ask me how I've been doing, but he gives me a look that I take to mean "we'll talk later, one on one".

* * *

Randy's POV

'What have you been up to Randy?' dad asks after he finishes talking with mom.

'Well, I guess you found out about me moving out to Los Angeles a year ago' I say.

'Yeah. So what have you been up to out there?' he asks.

'Well, it's kind of strange actually, I went to this comedy club on amateur's night one night, and long story short, I'm starring in an ABC sitcom with Jonathan Taylor Thomas now' I explain.

'So you have your own TV show now too?' dad smiles. I nod.

This all seems so unreal. I wonder if our lives will ever be able to go back to normal again. I mean, I doubt we can just go back to living together again and act like nothing ever happened. I especially doubt we'll be able to go back to living normally again as long as I'm a star on a primetime sitcom that is number one in the Nielsen ratings.

'When are we going to get Mark' dad asks.

'As soon as we get plane tickets out to Boston' mom answers.

'Good. Then we can be a family again' he says.

'I have one question. If you didn't die dad, who did we bury three years ago?' I ask, already having a good idea who died and was buried three years ago.

'It must've been Tim Allen. I guess after we get Mark we can explain to his wife and daughter what happened. I'm sure they're worried sick. He's been missing for what, about three years now?' dad says.

* * *

A/N: Forget everything I've said in the past. I don't know how many chapters are left in this story. When you read the words "Yours truly, Randy Taylor" in the chapter that says "The Ruins of Our Lives Epilogue", then this story will be done.

To mischieftheblackwolf, if you're still reading: I swear that I really do have some brotherly fluff coming. It will probably be in the chapter after the next one.

So anyways, this is probably the longest it's ever taken me to write a chapter. It's taken me longer to update, I know, but I have actually been writing this chapter since September 29. And I mean that literally. I have been writing on this every day since then, even if it's only a sentence or two. I probably would've updated sooner, but about three weeks ago, I went back and deleted everything except the first three paragraphs, because the rest of it was just absolutely horrible. (And that's not an understatement, either).

Please R&R if you're reading this. It was originally my goal for this story to get to 50 reviews, but I'd settle for 40 right now.

Thanks for reading.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	23. 23: Like a Painting, That Blue Skyline

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 23

"Like a Painting, That Blue Skyline"

Randy's POV

Mark is lucky in a way. Between Boston and Los Angeles, Boston is a much more beautiful city. Looking out the window of the plane before we landed was like looking at a painting. The bright November sunlight was reflecting off the water underneath us and off the glass skyscrapers and office buildings.

I've been going over what I'm going to say to Mark in my mind at least a hundred times. We all decided that I would be the best choice to talk to Mark.

I think this might be a tad bit easier, except for the fact that I feel like I let Mark down.

'Alright, it's the moment of truth' I mumble under my breath, hand raised and ready to knock on the door of apartment 527. I rap the door three times, and wait. And wait. And then finally an elderly man with a white hair and a white beard wearing overalls and a Red Sox hat answers the door.

'Can I- You're Randy Taylor! Mark, your brother is at the door!' the man who I assume is Willie says. I hear footsteps pounding down the hall, and then see Mark come running through the kitchenette and ultimately come to a sliding stop at the door. The routine has obviously been rehearsed.

'So you and mom and Brad must be here now. I was just busy uh…packing. Where are mom and Brad at?' Mark says, having a sudden change in attitude.

'They're on their way up. Listen, Mark, I know I've said this a thousand times already, but I'm sorry that none of this worked out. But I can almost guarantee you things will be alright now' I say.

'No you can't. The only way that could happen is if dad came back from the dead, and we all know that won't happen' Mark mumbles. I try to suppress the smile that's making the edges of my mouth curl up. It doesn't take long for it to become a full fledged smile.

'What the _hell _are you smiling about?' Mark asks, trying to read my eyes and facial expressions. Before I get a chance to answer, as if on cue, mom, then Brad, and finally dad walk through the door. The same kind of smile that overtook my face sweeps over Mark's.

'How…? What…what's going on?' he stammers.

'It wasn't me that died that day at Tool Time, it was Tim Allen' dad explains after hugging Mark.

We just stand there for a few minutes and enjoy being together again.

'Where do we go from here?' Mark asks.

'We fly back to Detroit and go explain to Laura and Katie Allen what happened to Tim' mom says.

* * *

A/N: I know this chapter was a little short, but I'll have the other one coming up a little later, with more to follow.

Once again, I'm sorry for the long wait between chapters.

Please read and review, it's much appreciated.

Thanks for reading.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor


	24. Chapter 24: You Can Never Go Home Again

The Ruins of Our Lives Chapter 24

"You Can Never Go Home Again"

Randy's POV

'Like I said before, I just wanted to take a chance to apologize to both of you for being such an ass' Brad says in conclusion of his apology/speech.

'Apology accepted' Mark says. I nod halfheartedly. I'll forgive him for what he did to me, but not for threatening Lauren. No, that'll take some time and work.

Lauren! I haven't even talked to her since we got back to Detroit. Maybe I'll do that after we go over and talk to the Allens.

'You know, we've had a lot of good times in this room guys. All of us have had our rooms in here at one point or another. Ha! Remember the stupid kind of stuff we used to get into fights over?' I reminisce.

'Randy! What did you do with my Roosterman comics?' Brad jokes.

'Why would I want your stupid comics?' I play along.

'Well if I didn't take them, and you didn't take them, then that means…Mark!' we both shout in unison.

'I didn't do anything guys' Mark smiles. Then he jumps up and starts running downstairs. Brad and I chase after him. We go flying down the stairs two at a time, through the kitchen, and out the back door. Mark trips over a stone, and we all three wind up crumpling to the ground laughing our heads off. A foolish and perhaps ridiculous sight to see, three teenagers laying on the ground in a pile, laughing like they're a fourth their age, but it just seems so right to us. We lay there a few seconds longer, then stand up.

'Are you boys about ready to go?' mom hollers from the house.

'As ready as we'll ever be' Brad responds.

Fifteen minutes later, we all pile into the Nomad and take off.

Ten minutes after that, we pull into the long, winding driveway to the residence of the late Tim Allen. We pile out of the car; and walk up to the door, ring the bell, and wait.

Finally someone answers. She appears to be in her mid to late forties, and must be Laura.

'Hi, we're the Taylor family. Your husband was on my husband's show three years ago when the roof collapsed. There's something we really need to speak with you about. Could we come in?' mom explains.

'Yes, please. Right this way' Laura says, leading us to the living room.

'Now, what is it you need to see me about?' Laura asks after all of us have been seated.

'After your Tim left to go to the taping of Tool Time that morning, you never saw him again. We believe that what happened was that your Tim was mistaken for being my Tim' mom explains.

'So it was Tim who…who…' she says, bursting into tears before she can say any more. It would be a lie to say I suddenly want to leave since I didn't want to do this in the first place.

Sitting here, watching this happen reminds me so much of the grief that we went through when we thought dad was dead. It sounds cliché, but I can understand exactly what she's feeling and going through.

'Thank you for coming by to tell me this. It doesn't really change the circumstances much, but at least it provides the family with some closure' Laura says, bringing me from my thoughts back to reality.

When we pull into the driveway ten minutes later, I can't help but think of all the potential memories this entire incident has caused everyone to miss out on. Even doing something so commonplace as this wreaks havoc on my emotions. It just seems like I'm on the outside and looking in, like I shouldn't be here. I don't know, maybe I shouldn't.

I guess, ultimately, you never can go home again. I guess we just get to be stuck where God places us. Not that I'm second guessing Him or anything. Maybe some day we'll all get to go Home.

* * *

A/N: I want to start this off by saying two things:

One chapter left now!

One chapter left now :(

Don't worry though, I promise the last chapter will be a happy one, and I hope I leave everyone smiling.

I need to send out a thank you to Baxxie for giving me feedback on part of this story.

And to mischieftheblackwolf: I really wasn't lying when I promised I would have some brotherly fluff in this story before it ended.

Please R&R, you only have one more chance to do so for this story after this.

Thanks for reading.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor

* * *

P.S. I plan on having the last chapter up on Christmas Day, just because I like to end my stories on special days.

-Yours truly again, Randy Taylor


	25. Epilogue: Or Can You?

The Ruins of Our Lives Epilogue

"Or Can You?"

Randy's POV

'Randy, you have a phone call. It's some guy named Robert Iger' mom says.

'He's the president of Disney' I say, wondering what he wants to talk to me about.

'Hello' I answer.

'Is this Randy Taylor?' he asks.

'Yes it is' I respond.

'I'm not going to beat around the bush with you Randy. We'd like to know if and when you'll be able to return to production of _Life and Stuff_. It's the best new show that ABC has had since _Home Improvement_' Mr. Iger says.

'Wow, really? Uh, I don't know, I'd have to umm…you know, think about it. I don't know if anyone has told you, but I had a family emergency of sorts' I explain. I can't tell him that I need to get permission from mom and dad, since no one save Jonathan knows about what's going on.

'Just give me a call when you're ready. My number is 555-6526. Oh, and I understand it's a family emergency and all, but please don't take too long otherwise CBS will majorly kick our butts in the ratings' he says. I laugh at the CBS part.

'Alright, I'll do that' I say.

I walk into the living room where mom and dad are sitting on the couch watching....Life and Stuff.

'Mom, dad, can I talk to you two for a minute?' I ask.

'Sure, what is it?' dad asks.

'That guy that was just on the phone was the president of Disney, and he wanted to know when I would be able to return to production of Life and Stuff' I say.

'What'd you tell him?' dad asks.

'I told him that I would have to think on it for a day or two. He gave me his phone number to call him when I've decided' I explain.

'When are you going back?' dad asks. I think mom is remaining silent throughout all of this because she doesn't want me to go back to Los Angeles, but at the same time, she doesn't want to keep me from doing what she knows that I want to do.

'That's what I needed to talk to you two about' I say.

'I think your mom and I would need to discuss this in private' dad says.

'Okay, I'll be downstairs in my room if you need me' I say. I'm not worried, I'm already formulating a plan.

I grab the number that Robert Iger gave me, and head downstairs.

Once downstairs, I slide my door closed, and dial Jonathan Taylor Thomas' phone number.

'Hello' Jonathan answers.

'Jonathan, this is Randy Taylor' I say.

'What can I do for you Randy?' he asks.

'I've been thinking and wondering. It would be a bit of a pain, but I think the only way I'll be able to stay on Life and Stuff is if we shoot in Detroit. Do you have any objections to that?' I say.

'I don't, but I doubt ABC will even consider moving production to Detroit, but if you want to try to convince them, go for it' he says.

'Thanks. That's all I need for now. Right now I have to call Robert Iger and let him know about this' I say, then hang up.

'Hello, this is Robert Iger' he answers. Wow, he gave me his personal phone number. I figured I'd have to go through ten different people to get to him.

'Mr. Iger, this is Randy Taylor, we just spoke on the phone a few minutes ago. I've decided that I'm ready to return to Life and Stuff, under two conditons. One, I want to have the show shot in Detroit. That's the only way I think I'll be able to continue on with the show. And number two, there's this local TV show that's been off the air for about three years now, and I'd like ABC to consider bringing it back as a national show' I explain.

'Okay, okay, slow down. You want me to have production of Life and Stuff moved to Detroit. Even if I did that, how do you know the cast will be alright with the move?' he asks.

'I know because I've already spoke with Jonathan Taylor Thomas on the issue, and he says that it would be fine for everyone' I say.

'We'll consider it. After all, it has worked for the two Law and Orders. Now what was your next request, something about an old TV show?' Mr. Iger asks.

'Yes. See, my dad used to host this cable tool show here in Detroit, and I was wondering if you'd at the very least consider picking it up' I explain.

'We'd have to do a little research before we make a decision' he says.

'Now, when were you going to be able to begin production again?' he asks.

'Actually, I honestly haven't gotten that far yet' I admit sheepishly. I wasn't counting on him asking me that.

'Like I said before, let me know when you can. I have to go now' he says.

As I hang up the phone, I start wondering what kind of person Robert Iger must think I am. Some kid who's been with the network for four months asking the president of Disney to give his dad a show and to move production of the show the kid's on to Detroit to make things more convenient for him.

* * *

A Week Later

Randy's POV

Mom and dad decided after a couple of hours of discussion that I can go back to Los Angeles whenever I'm ready to. I haven't told either of them about my secret phone calls yet, and don't plan on doing it until Christmas Day. Robert Iger called me back yesterday afternoon to tell me that he and everyone else who needed to approved my two requests. I can't wait to see dad's face when he hears he gets to do Tool Time again. I just wonder what Tool Time will be like without Al.

And the best part is, both Life and Stuff and Tool Time have schedules that will allow me and dad to watch each other's shows.

* * *

Christmas Day

Randy's POV

'Mom, dad, there's one more gift left for both of you, but it's something that I have to tell you. All the calls I've been getting from Robert Iger have been about some new contract details for Life and Stuff. The first one is, after some lobbying by me, the Disney and ABC executives have granted me a request to have the production location of Life and Stuff changed from Los Angeles to Detroit.' I pause for a minute to let this news sink in for everybody, not just mom and dad. Mom and dad both look shocked, Brad and Mark look excited, and Wilson looks…suspiciously pleased. Hmm… I continue 'And the second piece of news is for you dad. My other request was for them to bring Tool Time back and make it a national show. They granted that request too.' Again I pause. 'They did however make two changes. They are going to take Tool Time from being a half hour tool show to being a half hour sitcom. And they found someone else they'd like to have cast as your assistant, since Al can't obviously do the show' I finish up.

'Who is it?' dad asks.

'They want to have some guy named Richard Karn play your assistant, whose name will be Glenn. All of this is pending your approval, of course' I tell dad.

* * *

Later That Day

Randy's POV

'Wilson, I think this is one of the best Christmases I can ever remember having' I say over the fence. 'You know, I didn't think it was possible to quote/unquote "go home again", but I sure came close today.

'Oh, Randy, anything is possible when you have a little faith' Wilson says.

'By the way, did you have anything to do with Robert Iger's decisions?' I ask.

'You noticed?' he asks. I nod my head.

'Well, I was one of Mr. Iger's professors in college, and he owed me a favor so…' Wilson says.

'I'd just like to know if things will ever go back to normal again, I mean, if this'll ever feel like home again' I remark.

'I'm reminded of a line from The Wizard of Oz. "There's no place like home"' Wilson quotes.

The End

* * *

A/N: Where to begin, where to begin.

I want to thank everyone who has helped me with this story, and everyone who has read and reviewed this story.

I have to say, in all honesty, this is my favorite story that I've written so far, and I'm sad to see it go.

This must be a first, but for once, I don't have a lot to say in one of these final author's note.

Anyways, please read and review, I'd really appreciate it.

Thanks for reading both this chapter and all the others.

Have a Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah and whatever else kind of holiday you may be celebrating this time of year.

-Yours truly, for the final time here, Randy Taylor


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